


Reckless and Free

by GotTheSilver



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bikers, Community: deancasbigbang, Dean/Cas Big Bang Challenge 2016, Established Relationship, Found Family, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-24
Updated: 2016-11-24
Packaged: 2018-09-01 23:16:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8642089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GotTheSilver/pseuds/GotTheSilver
Summary: There’s a photo hanging in the hall of the Winchester home, Dean’s maybe three years old, and he’s on his dad’s bike, hands gripping the handlebars with a big grin on his face.  Next to it, his mom and dad’s wedding photo, dad with his kutte and mom with a tight-ass dress on, looking like they had the world at their feet.  Him and Sammy, in another photo, playing with toy guns and his mom laughing in the background.  Then, Cas and Dean at fifteen and sixteen respectively, hands clasped tightly, sitting on the hood of the Impala and making faces at the camera.

  It’s a simple little bundle of his past, present, and future in a life that isn’t ever simple.





	

**Author's Note:**

> additional notes/warnings: background Sam/Sarah. This is a Biker AU and therefore this fic involves everything that goes with that world. While the main characters are tagged, expect to see numerous other characters show up.
> 
> With many thanks to BK for the beta work and her amazing support.
> 
> [tumblr post](http://motleywolf.tumblr.com/post/153621271012/my-deancas-big-bang-fic-is-up-artist)
> 
> Sadly the artist never completed their art work for this fic.

There’s a photo hanging in the hall of the Winchester home, Dean’s maybe three years old, and he’s on his dad’s bike, hands gripping the handlebars with a big grin on his face. Next to it, his mom and dad’s wedding photo, dad with his kutte and mom with a tight-ass dress on, looking like they had the world at their feet. Him and Sammy, in another photo, playing with toy guns and his mom laughing in the background. Then, Cas and Dean at fifteen and sixteen respectively, hands clasped tightly, sitting on the hood of the Impala and making faces at the camera.

It’s a simple little bundle of his past, present, and future in a life that isn’t ever simple.

*

“How did Jersey take it?” Dean asks, looking down the table at Chuck. “They good with collecting?”

“Yeah. Said they might have some trouble funneling it through, but—”

“No trouble,” Dean says. “I’m not having this land on anyone’s radar. If they can’t get it sorted, we don’t do it this way.”

Sam looks over at Dean, tapping his fingers against the grain of the table, the sleeves of his plaid shirt rolled up and exposing his tanned forearms. “They could place an order with the studio, funnel it through bit by bit,” he says. “Be a steady source for us, and it’ll stay hidden from any eyes that wanna look at us.”

“Porn pays off yet again,” Dean says with a grin. “Gotta love it. Any other business?”

Garth raises a hand, looking around, waiting for a nod from Dean. “I just want to thank the club, from my heart, for the help with my mom’s medical bills. You’re true brothers.”

There’s a murmuring around the table in acceptance of Garth’s words, Rufus clapping him on the back, and Dean looks around, waiting for everyone to quiet down. “Got some news,” he says when there’s finally silence. “Azazel’s crew is stirring up some problems a few towns over.”

Cas’ brow furrows, hands clasped together in front of him on the table. “They can’t be stupid enough to come here,” he says, looking over at Dean. “They know what we do to dealers.”

“I think he’s got a plan,” Dean says carefully. “Thinks we’re not paying attention to him. He’s wrong. Someone needs to get Kevin on the phone, I want to know where their money’s coming from.”

“Kevin’s got finals,” Sam says, with a shake of his head. “He’s gonna need an incentive.”

“I’ll pull his goddamn college funding, how’s that for an incentive?” Dean glares at Sam. “Don’t let him forget what this club did for him and his mom.”

“He’ll do it, Dean,” Sam says. “I’m just saying we could do with Ash back.”

“I’m working on it,” Dean says. “Until then, we need Kevin to put aside his schoolwork for five minutes to help the club that helped him, got it? Anyone got any other business?” Dean asks, and when no one says anything, he bangs his gavel to bring the meeting to a close. “Back to work.” They all file out, except for Cas, and Dean looks over at him, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

“War?”

“Maybe,” Dean says, pushing his chair back from the table slightly, giving him room to splay his legs, and looking over at Cas with an inviting grin.

Cas smirks and gets up to stand between Dean’s legs, leaning his ass against the table. “You’re stressed,” he says, the smile fading from his lips as he watches Dean. “Worried about war.”

“I’m—yeah.” Dean runs a hand over his face. “You read me too easily,” he says with a soft smile, looking up at Cas. “If Azazel’s making moves like this, he’s got backing, and that means we could lose people if we don’t have some back up.”

“You’ve got me,” Cas says, fingers grazing against the hilt of his favourite knife that he keeps strapped to his hip.

“Sweetheart, as much as I love you, you can’t take on everyone by yourself.”

“I can try.”

“Please don’t,” Dean says, leaning forward and sliding a hand up the inside of Cas’ thigh until he’s cupping Cas’ crotch. “I’d miss this if you got killed.”

“Are you doubting my skills in a fight?”

"Not since you knocked out Bobby when you were thirteen.”

“He told me I needed to learn how to box.” Cas looks down at Dean’s hand. “Either do something, or move your hand, you know you have an appointment at the studio.”

“Charlie can handle it, that’s why I put her in charge,” Dean says, idly dragging his fingertips along the seam of Cas’ jeans.

“Your name is on everything, you have to be the one to sign for things.”

“New dildos?” Dean asks, waggling his eyebrows and removing his hand from Cas’ dick.

“Ask Gabriel, he’s the one you put on this,” Cas says, raising an eyebrow and getting off the table.

“Hey, he wanted to stop being nomad,” Dean says with a smug smile. “I found him a place to fit, and he fits in very well at the studio.”

“C’mon.” Cas reaches out for Dean’s hand, ignoring the remarks about his brother and tugging Dean to his feet. “You’ve gotta go be a porn king.”

“I’m starting to think you get off on that,” Dean says, threading his and Cas’ fingers together as they head out of church, Cas closing the heavy wooden doors behind them as they step into the clubhouse. Cas leans in and nips at the curve of Dean’s neck, laughing when Dean hisses and turns, backing Cas up against a wall. “You wanna mark me up properly before I go to the studio?”

There’s a quick, dark flash through Cas’ eyes. “You’re mine,” he says, voice steady, his hand gripping Dean’s so tight that Dean sucks in a breath.

“Yeah?” Dean leans in, grazing his teeth along Cas’ bottom lip, detangling their linked hands to get a solid grip on Cas’ hip. “And you’re mine.” There’s a sharp grin that crosses Cas’ face and then they’re kissing, Dean pressing Cas up against the wall, their hands roaming all over each other. Dean slides a hand down the back of Cas’ jeans, almost forgetting that they’re in the middle of the clubhouse when—

“If you get come all over this place, you’re going to be cleaning it up, not the prospect.”

Pulling away from Cas, Dean glances over his shoulder. “Hi, mom.”

Mary’s standing there, leather jacket still on, hair falling over her shoulders; her arms are folded across her chest and she’s got a wry grin on her face as she looks at them. “You do know you have a bedroom in this clubhouse? And a house of your own?”

Dean takes his hand out of Cas’ jeans and kisses him once more before turning to face his mom. “But there’s no thrill of being caught in our own bedroom,” he says, smiling at her.

“Are you saying you get off on your mom catching us?” Cas says, leaning his chin on Dean’s shoulder, arms wrapped around Dean’s body, one hand stroking against the fabric of the worn grey t-shirt covering Dean’s stomach. “I think you should’ve told me that.”

“We’ve been together our whole lives, Cas, I gotta keep it fresh.”

Cas bites at Dean’s earlobe before disentangling himself. “Love you too,” he says, walking out of the clubhouse and heading towards the garage. “Come find me when you’re done with the studio.”

Dean watches him leave, eyes on Cas’ ass the whole way out, and when he turns back to look at his mom, he finds Mary laughing at him. “What?”

“That boy has had you under his thumb since you were both babies.”

“Mom, seriously?”

Mary walks over and cups his face, patting his cheek. “It’s sweet. Now, go see Charlie, she can’t run that studio on her own.”

*

After John died, Cas broke into the house. He was eight, wearing Harley PJs, and had somehow got it into his head that he was going to make Dean pie. Mary heard noises in the kitchen and ended up pulling a gun on him.

She likes to say that’s when she knew that Castiel and Dean would be forever. Because Cas didn’t blink in the face of the gun, didn’t cry, or start yelling. He blinked and told Mary that her son hadn’t been sleeping and that he needed to help fix that. Help fix Dean.

Dean doesn’t remember any of that; most of what happened around the time his dad died is a blur. Anything he does remember, he’d spent his early twenties trying to kill off with whiskey and cocaine. He does remember that Cas never left his side.

Cas still hasn’t left his side.

*

The studio is within city limits, they keep the operation this side of legal, the girls are clean, and they even have permits to film the porn. Pulling up on his bike outside the building, Dean walks inside to see a shoot in progress, Tessa doing some truly spectacular work on Anna in the middle of a medical set up. Charlie’s sitting in her director’s chair, Gabriel hovering behind her, and Dean walks over to the refreshments table, waiting for her to call cut.

“You know, the vibrators are over there,” Gabriel says when he spots Dean. “In case you and my brother want to spice things up.”

“I don’t think we need any help, but thanks for the concern.”

“You are loud as hell.”

“And proud of it,” Dean says with a smile that gets wider when Charlie walks over. “Hey, porn queen.”

“Do you have to call me that?”

“It makes me happy,” Dean says, pulling her into a hug.

“Since when is it my job to make you happy?” Charlie says, hugging him back quickly before letting go. “I need you to sign off on some things, just permit renewals, stock orders. Also, we kind of have a tiny problem.”

Dean raises an eyebrow. “Problem? What kind of problem? Gabe? Why wasn’t I told?”

“I was handling it,” Gabriel says. “Turns out it was a little bigger than I realised.”

“As in?”

“Meg’s making a play for our girls,” Charlie says. “She wants them turning tricks. Now, we pay good money, but I can’t stop any of them from taking on extra work. And—” Charlie hesitates.

“What?” Dean asks.

“She wants to sell to them.”

Dean rubs his fingers against his forehead. “How many have bought?”

“None, yet, as far as I know. But she’s here almost weekly, and I don’t know if any of the girls are going to take her up on what she’s offering. I need her gone, Dean.”

“Hey,” Dean says, shooting a look at her. “I don’t take orders from you.”

“I know, okay,” she says, raising a hand for a moment. She glances over at Tessa and Anna and shakes her head. “It’s your business, I get that, but I care about these girls.”

“You think I don’t?”

“No one’s saying that,” Gabriel interjects. “Come on, you both care, and arguing about this isn’t going to get rid of Meg.”

This is not what Dean wanted to deal with today, if Meg’s making a play for their girls, she’s doing it because Azazel’s telling her to, and all that speaks to is that someone, somewhere, wants war. “She comes round again, you call it in, got it?”

“Got it,” Charlie says. “Now, the papers? I gotta get this shoot finished before Lisa gets here for a solo.”

“She bringing Ben?”

“To a porn set? No, Dean, he’s at Linda’s place with the other kids,” Charlie says, shaking her head at him and walking away. Dean follows her to the office, making a face when he sees the amount of paperwork he has to sign.

“Seriously?” he says, taking a seat at the desk.

“You wanted a legit business.”

Dean holds his hand out for a pen and gets to signing, raising an eyebrow at the number of batteries they’re ordering. “Exactly how many vibrators are you gettin’ through?” he asks when he’s done.

“Watch the movies and find out.”

“Cas is better than any of the porn we produce,” Dean says, leaning back in the chair. “We done?”

“Yeah, we’re done.”

Dean stands up and pulls Charlie into a quick hug. “Mom’s having dinner tomorrow night, and she’ll kick my ass if you don’t turn up.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Bring those mozz sticks you make,” Dean calls as he walks out of the office. “Gabe, you good here?”

“Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

“First sign of Meg, you call it in,” Dean tells him, waiting for Gabriel to nod before he walks out of the studio. As soon as he sits on his bike, his burner phone buzzes. “What?”

“We’ve got trouble,” Sam says. “Jody gave us a heads up, there’s bodies by the town border.”

“Not ours.”

“Vamps. Not Benny, but a couple of his men.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah. What do you want to do?”

“Cas still at the garage?”

"Underneath a Mustang as we speak.”

“I’m heading back, I’ll swing by Jody’s on the way.”

Hanging up, Dean puts his helmet on and rides off towards the sheriff’s station. Benny’s club has been tied with them for going on twenty years, an attack on them is an attack on the Hunters, and it’s exactly what Dean doesn’t need right now.

Jody’s waiting for him outside the station, hands on her hips, sunglasses blocking the glare from the sun low in the sky. “Winchester,” she says as Dean gets off his bike.

“Heard you got some new visitors to the morgue.”

“Yep. You know anything about that?”

“We got no problems with the Vamps, you know that,” Dean says, shaking his head. “Possibility we were talking about a patch over, but that’s club business.”

“Uh huh. Anything else I should know about?”

“Meg’s around.”

“Okay,” Jody says, raising an eyebrow. “You got anything more for me than that?”

“Catch her at the right moment and she’ll have crank on her.”

“And what reason does Dean Winchester have for wanting to bring down our local crank dealing madam?”

Dean shrugs. “Call it being a good citizen, you know I don’t like drugs in my town.”

“She’s definitely in town?”

“Would I lie to you, sheriff?”

Jody shakes her head and waves a hand at him. “Get out of here.”

Laughing, Dean gets on his bike and peels off back to the garage. When he gets there, Cas’ legs are sticking out from underneath a Mustang, and Dean walks over, leaning against the wall and watching him.

“That better be you, Dean.”

“Think anyone else would dare?”

Cas slides out from underneath the car and stares up at Dean; there’s smears of grease all over his face and overalls, the thin silver chain of his necklace resting in the dip of his throat, and Dean can’t help but smile at him. “What did Jody say?” Cas asks, standing up and grabbing a rag, wiping his hands.

“Bodies by the border, Vamps.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“Do we know who?” Cas asks, dropping the rag on his tool case.

Dean shakes his head, shifting over to make room for Cas next to him. “No idea. We’ve got a meet with the Bastards tomorrow, so we’ll see if Victor’s got any info. This weekend we’ve got Mom’s cookout, so it better not blow back on us, or else I’m a dead man.”

“What’s this one raising money for?”

“New uniforms for the football team.”

“How wholesome,” Cas says, raising an eyebrow. “She really wants us there?”

“Why, you gonna blow me in the middle of the park? Community outreach, Cas, you know how it goes.”

Cas nods, glancing at the clock and sighing, pushing away from the wall. “I’ve got to get back to the car, Tessa’s coming for it when she’s done at the studio.”

“Want me to be your glamourous assistant?”

“You could strip off and get under the car yourself and I could take a nap.”

“I got work to do, sweetheart,” Dean says, looping his fingers in Cas’ pockets and pulling him close. Ignoring the grease smeared across Cas’ face, Dean kisses him, pulling away before they get too involved, smiling when Cas whines a little. It always makes Dean feel powerful, knowing the things Cas has done, for this club, for _Dean_ , and yet sometimes a touch from Dean means Cas acts like a goddamn kitten. “Roadhouse tonight? Just you and me?”

Cas nods, sneaking another kiss before getting back under the car. Leaving Cas to his work, Dean steps into the garage office and sighs when he sees how much paperwork is piled up on the desk. Sticking his head back out of the office, Dean looks around, “Cas, where’s my mom?”

“Lunch with the social worker.”

“What?”

Cas rolls out and fixes Dean with a look. “The troubled teenage girls group? Your mom wanted to be more involved.”

“How do you remember this shit?”

“Your mom is scarier than you are,” Cas says, sliding back under the car.

“That’s not true,” Dean grumbles as he heads back into the office to tackle the paperwork that’s built up over the past week. Thoughts of the dead Vamps float into his mind and he sits back in his chair, an invoice in his hand, as he tries to work out what the hell is gonna happen next. There hasn’t been a war since he was a kid, not long after his dad died, and all he really remembers is Rufus coming everywhere with him, and Cas not being allowed to stay at the group home because Mary didn’t think he was safe there. Dean’s got no experience of war on the scale that could hit them, and, yeah, he’s a little fucking scared that he’s going to get the people in his life killed.

*

Dean’s made a dent in the paperwork when there’s a knock on the door. “Yeah?”

“We’ve got a problem,” Garth says, peeking his head in.

“What?”

“Ruby’s here.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Dean gets up and storms outside, pushing past Garth, and heading into the courtyard where Ruby’s there, leaning against her shiny red Ferrari. “What do you want?”

“I want to see Sam,” she says, lips twisted into a smirk.

“Not happening.”

“Dean—”

“You almost got him killed, Ruby, why the fuck do you think I’d let you see him?”

“You’re not the boss of him.”

“Sam won’t say any different,” Dean says, folding his arms over his chest, spotting Cas out of the corner of his eye, ready to back him up in a moment.

“Then why are you so scared to let me see him?” Ruby asks, her eyes narrowing as she looks at Dean.

“Because you’re a manipulative bitch.”

“That’s classy, Dean.”

“Leave, Ruby, before I make you leave.”

There’s a glare from her, before she stomps into her car and drives off, narrowly avoiding hitting Bobby. “What the hell was that,” Bobby asks, walking over to Dean.

“Ruby,” Dean says before turning on his heel and heading towards the clubhouse. The prospects are hanging at the bar and Dean yells at them to get out, taking a small measure of amusement in the way they automatically scatter.

“Hey,” Cas says, having followed Dean inside. “Bedroom.”

“What?”

“Now.” Cas leans in, still in his overalls, grease smears having got worse, and kisses Dean. “You’re going to fuck me.”

All of Dean’s blood rushes to his groin and he follows Cas through the clubhouse until they reach the bedroom, Dean slamming the door closed behind them as Cas heads inside. By the time Dean turns around, Cas’ boots are off, and he’s already stripping out of his overalls, kicking them in the corner, before he pulls his t-shirt over his head, and then he’s standing there in his jeans. It’s been years, and still when Dean looks at Cas, he wants him so goddamn much. Hooking a finger through a belt loop in Cas’ jeans, Dean pulls him closer until their noses are brushing against each other. “Get undressed,” Dean says, kissing Cas once, almost chastely, before letting go.

Dean doesn’t take his eyes off Cas, watching Cas’ jeans slide down his thighs; how Cas sits on the edge of the bed to pull his socks off; the chain around his neck resting against his collarbones. Before Dean’s even got his jacket and kutte off, Cas has found the lube and is slicking his own fingers up, working himself open, and Dean’s never gonna fucking complain about Cas going to Lisa’s yoga classes again. Stripping off the rest of his clothes quickly, Dean joins Cas on the bed, running a hand up Cas’ thigh until he can slowly drag his fingertips up Cas’ cock, grinning when Cas groans.

“Condom,” Cas manages to bite out, his lube slick hand grabbing onto Dean’s wrist.

“Why?”

“Because I’ve still got work to do, and I don’t—fuck—want to be under a car with come leaking out of my ass.”

Dean reaches over and opens the drawer in the bedside table, finding a pack there. “You’re in luck, Princess,” he says, picking them up and glancing at the use by date. “They’re in date.”

“Call me Princess again and I’ll get my knife,” Cas says, rolling onto his front.

“Promise?” Dean teases, rolling a condom on before nudging Cas’ thighs apart and covering Cas’ body with his own. Pressing a kiss at the base of Cas’ neck, Dean rocks his hips against Cas’ ass, cock sliding against the skin. “You good?”

“ _Dean_.”

Laughing, Dean lines himself up and pushes inside Cas, savouring the way Cas sucks in a breath at the action. There’s no leverage like this, but Dean takes his time until Cas is swearing and trying to push back against him.

“Knees, sweetheart,” Dean says, eventually giving into Cas’ demands, hands on Cas’ hips to help him adjust. Cas’ face is against the pillow, hands gripping the sheets, and Dean’s eyes flicker over the expanse of Cas’ back before him, eyes tracing the lines of the wings tattooed on Cas’ strong back, his own hands gripping at Cas’ hips as he fucks him hard, muscles in his thighs straining with the effort. Obscene noises fall from Cas’ lips, and Dean can barely keep himself together enough to reach for Cas’ cock, wrapping his hand around it and stroking fast until Cas is crying out, his come spilling over Dean’s hand. Dean keeps on fucking Cas, burying himself deep inside him until he feels the familiar coiling in his gut, and then he’s coming, falling over Cas’ back, his chin hitting Cas’ shoulder.

“Fuck,” Dean breathes out, mouth moving against Cas’ skin, his legs feeling like jelly.

“Feel better?” Cas asks, his voice slightly muffled by the pillow.

“Uh huh.”

“Then get off me, you’re heavy.”

Dean laughs, pulls out of Cas and rolls over, taking the condom off and flinging it in the direction of the trash. As soon as he’s done, Cas moves over, curling an arm over Dean’s stomach and resting his head on his shoulder. “You know Sam won’t go back to her, right?”

“You gotta bring that up right now?”

“Dean—”

"I know, okay,” Dean says, staring up at the ceiling, examining the grooves in the wood panels. “I don’t like knowing she’s back in town.”

“She’ll leave,” Cas says, pushing up on his elbow and pressing his lips against Dean’s cheek softly. “She always does.”

*

Ruby started hanging around Sam when they were both teenagers; Dean was busy learning how to be President, running around with Cas, trying to take care of the garage, and Sam went his own way. Ruby wasn’t awful, at first; no one knew where she’d come from, but that was par for the course for a biker groupie. She was a little wilder than Dean would’ve liked for Sam, but he wasn’t in any place to judge.

Then, somehow, it spiralled, and Ruby’s past followed her into town; a gang she’d ripped off traced her to Sam, looking for revenge. First there was a drive by, and when that failed, they set fire to Sam’s house.

Ruby wasn’t even there.

She vanished before anyone could track her down.

*

The rest of the day passes quietly, and Dean’s almost totally finished with the paperwork when his mom stops by. “Hey kid,” she says, leaning against the door. “You need anything?”

Blinking to clear the strain on his eyes, Dean looks up and shakes his head. “I’m good.”

“You and Cas have plans tonight?”

“Hitting up the Roadhouse. Charlie’s joining us for dinner tomorrow,” he says, rolling his shoulders in an attempt to loosen them up. “Sure you want to do this? You’ve got the cookout this weekend.”

“I can handle it,” Mary says, walking over and thumbing through the paperwork. “Especially if you keep on taking on the paperwork here.”

“Needed a distraction,” Dean admits, rubbing a finger over the back of his hand. “Ruby showed up.”

“What did that bitch want?”

“Damn, Mom.”

“She almost killed Sam, don’t start with me,” Mary says, folding her arms over her chest. “Why did she come back?”

“She wanted to see Sam,” Dean says. “Didn’t get a chance, and she’s not going to. Sam doesn’t know she’s back yet.”

“You’re going to tell him,” she says, raising an eyebrow at Dean. “Before dinner tomorrow.”

Dean nods in acquiescence. “How did your future criminals of America meeting go?” he asks, laughing when Mary smacks him on the back of the head.

“They’re good kids,” Mary says, sitting down in the seat on the opposite side of the desk. “A little wild, but so were you. One of them, Claire, she reminds me of you.”

“Yeah?”

“She’s a smartass.”

“Thanks mom, love you too.” Dean glances at the clock and gets up. “I’m gonna leave the rest of this until tomorrow,” he says, leaning down and kissing Mary on the cheek. “Me an’ Cas need a night out.”

“Try not to get into trouble,” she says as he walks out.

When Dean gets outside he sees Cas leaning in the window of the Mustang, talking to Tessa, and Dean stands by the entrance to the garage, his eyes fixed on Cas’ ass. Eventually Cas straightens up and lets Tessa drive off; when he turns around, he heads straight to Dean and catches his mouth in a firm kiss. Dean goes with it, his hands sliding over the coveralls and tugging Cas closer, heedless of the grease and oil that’s currently covering Cas.

“You’d think we hadn’t fucked today,” Dean says when they part, a smirk on his face as he looks at Cas. “You okay?”

“Long day,” Cas says, locking eyes with him. “Did you tell your mom about Ruby?”

“Yeah, she’s not happy. Kinda wondering if she’s gonna end up going after her.”

“She knows better than to do that.”

“You don’t deny my mother is crazy enough to do it, though,” Dean says, stepping back from Cas, his hands lingering for a second. “Ready to head to the Roadhouse?”

Cas nods. “Are we locking up?”

“Mom’s gonna do it,” Dean says. “Go get your overalls off and we can go.”

*

The Roadhouse is packed with people, but as always, there’s a booth for Dean in the back and he slides in with Cas following right after him. “Busy,” he says, turning into Cas, his hand automatically resting on Cas’ thigh.

“There isn’t anywhere else to go in this town,” Cas says, glancing over at the bar. “Are we going to have to get our own drinks?”

“Want me to give you a handjob while we wait?” Dean asks, squeezing Cas’ thigh.

Cas turns to him and makes a face. “If you want to explain that to Ellen, go right ahead.”

“She probably wouldn’t shoot me,” Dean says, nodding at Jo as she walks over. “I think.”

“Mom?” Jo says, putting their drinks on the table. “Oh she’d shoot you, but she’d feel bad about it.”

“Thanks, kid, good to know.” Wrapping a hand around his glass, Dean looks around the bar. “Jo, who’re they?” he asks, gesturing at two guys nursing beers in a corner.

Jo turns and looks in the direction Dean’s looking at. “Huh,” she says. “Dunno.”

“Never been in here before?”

“Nope.”

Dean exchanges a look with Cas before smiling up at Jo. “Okay.”

“Do I need to let mom know?” Jo asks, looking between the two of them. “Trouble?”

“Don’t know yet,” Dean says, knowing that Cas is keeping his eyes on them. “Hey, bring us some food? The usual.”

“Mom already got the kitchen on it,” Jo says. “I gotta get back to work, try not to start a fight?”

“Why does everyone say that to me?” Dean grouses as Jo walks away.

“There’s an imprint of your fist in the wall that Ellen still hasn’t fixed,” Cas says mildly, not taking his eyes away from the men in the corner. “That’s why they say that to you.”

“Anything?”

“They’re dealing,” Cas says, turning back to look at Dean, picking up his drink and covering Dean’s hand with his own. “Don’t get up.”

“Cas—”

“Not yet.”

There’s a glint in Cas’ eyes that Dean recognises and Dean settles back in the booth, tangling their fingers together and picking up his own drink. “You sure?”

“I know the signs,” Cas says. “Finish the drinks first, then we can make sure they don’t come back.”

The men don’t leave, and by the time Dean’s finished his drink, they’ve started to get cocky, not even bothering to hide what they’re doing and Dean’s getting antsy, his leg vibrating and knocking against Cas’ leg because he wants these guys out of the bar and out of his town. Jo drops a note from her mom asking them to take it outside, and when Dean looks over at the bar, Ellen’s sending him a glare that says he’ll regret it if he starts a fight in her bar again.

“Outside?” Cas asks.

“Yep.” 

Cas drains the last of his drink and stands up, Dean following. Cas’ hand is resting on the hilt of his knife, and Dean’s comforted by the weight of his gun underneath his jacket; the men don’t look up when they approach and Dean watches with a small amount of glee as Cas grabs the dumber looking one’s wrist and squeezes hard enough to cut the blood supply off.

“What the fu—”

“Uh uh,” Dean interrupts, cutting the man off. “You’re not meant to be here. This is my town, no one sells in my town.”

“Or what?”

“Outside,” Cas says with a grin, letting go of the man’s wrist. “You can find out.”

The rest of the bar is giving them a wide berth and the tension crackles in the air, heavy with the threat of violence as Dean and Cas face off with the dealers. The less dumb looking one reaches down as if he’s going for a weapon, and Cas reacts before anyone else, pulling his knife out and holding it to the dealer’s throat.

“We’re going to take a walk,” Dean says, grabbing the other one by the jacket and dragging him outside, knowing that Cas is following him. When they get outside, Dean throws the one he’s holding on to the ground and looks over at Cas, the light glinting from Cas’ knife catching his eye. “Not yet,” he says to Cas. “Drop him.”

There’s a slight pout on Cas’ mouth, but he drops the guy on the floor, and as soon as he does, Dean aims a kick at the guy’s ribs. “Okay,” Dean says, crouching down. “Now we all know what we’re here for, why don’t you tell me who sent you here?”

“Azazel,” the guy who Dean didn’t kick in the ribs says, his eyes wide. “He didn’t say this was your territory.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Cas says, idly turning his knife around in his hands. “I don’t think you’re telling the truth.”

“I’m with him,” Dean says, punching the guy in the face, keeping hold of the guy’s collar. “You knew what you were doing and now, you’re going to find out what happens to dealers in our town.”

Before Dean can throw another punch, Cas is on the other guy, kicking him over and over again until the guy is spitting blood on to the ground. Dean made peace a long time ago about how fucking hot he finds Cas like this, and he doesn’t bother hiding a smile as he beats the shit out of the guy he’s holding. No one’s come out of the bar, and Dean knows that Ellen will have turned the security cameras off; he punches the guy again and again until his knuckles are bleeding, and doesn’t stop until the guy’s face is dripping blood onto the ground.

Getting up, Dean looks over at Cas; there’s blood splattered on Cas’ knuckles, some on his face, and he’s wiping his blade off on the guy’s shirt. “He still alive?” Dean asks, looking down at the mess they’ve left the dealers in.

“Just.”

“Good,” Dean says, stepping closer and tugging a bandana from his pocket, wiping the blood off Cas’ face. “Ellen hates it when we leave bodies outside.”

“Are we going back inside?”

Dean shakes his head, linking his bloodied hand with Cas’ hand and tugging him forward. Their mouths brush together softly, and Dean huffs out a laugh before catching Cas’ mouth in a deep kiss; his knuckles ache, and he knows that when they turn up at dinner tomorrow, mom is gonna bitch them out for fighting, but right now he’s got Cas here by his side, protecting the town they both grew up in, and that’s all he’s ever wanted.

“Your mom is gonna kill us,” Cas says when they part, lifting Dean’s knuckles to his lips and kissing them.

“Make those potatoes she loves,” Dean says, as they walk over to the bikes. “That’ll distract her.”

“You sure about that?” Cas asks, swinging a leg over his bike.

“No.”

*

Before they set off to meet with the Bastards, Dean heads over to Sam’s house, keeping an eye out for anything strange as he goes. There’s an unspoken rule to keep shit like this away from the houses, but not knowing who it is behind what’s been happening, Dean feels like he needs eyes in the back of his damn head so he can keep everyone safe.

Sam’s grumpy when he answers the door, rolling his eyes at Dean’s grin, and he steps back to allow Dean into the house. “Thought you had a meeting to get to?” Sam asks as Dean follows him into the kitchen, running a hand through his hair and yawning.

“Yeah, yes, I’m gonna circle back to meet Cas and Garth, but I gotta talk to you about something.”

“Okay,” Sam says, pouring himself some coffee. “Talk.”

“So, uh, Ruby stopped by the garage yesterday.”

“Those bloodied knuckles because of her?” Sam asks, raising his mug to his mouth.

Dean snorts, opening and closing his fist. “No, Cas and I got into it with some dealers at the Roadhouse.”

“You leave them alive?”

“Just about.”

Shaking his head, Sam takes out a loaf of bread and goes to the fridge. “So you left Ruby alive?”

“You disappointed?”

“No, Dean, I—” Sam breaks off, putting a carton of eggs on the counter, and sighs. “What did she want?”

“To see you.”

“Yeah, that’s not happening.”

“Good,” Dean says, watching Sam pull things out from his kitchen cupboards. “Don’t want you going down that road again.”

Cracking eggs into a bowl, Sam makes a face. “I’m not going to, you don’t have to worry about that.”

“Sure?”

“I haven’t been around Ruby for years, Dean, and I—I’m seeing someone new.”

Dean looks up, his eyebrows raised. “Really?”

“It’s early, but I like her.”

“No gang members coming to hunt her down?”

Sam huffs out a laugh, whisking his eggs with some milk. “You date one girl who ripped off a gang and you never hear the end of it. You want something to eat?”

“Gotta go,” Dean says. “Can’t keep Victor waiting.”

“Stay safe, okay?”

“Always do.”

*

The alliance they have with the Bastards goes back since before Dean was born, and only got stronger after the last war. Victor stepped up into presidency, and he’s one of the few people outside the family that Dean would trust with his life, fuck, has trusted with his life. Hell, he trusts him with the gun pipeline, which is more than his life, it’s his damn club.

By the time he, Cas, and Garth pull into town and head to the meeting place, Dean’s feeling antsy, the fight from last night weighing on his mind. If Azazel’s men are being sent into their town, then at the very least whoever is backing him is going to make a play for the town and that’s something Dean really fucking doesn’t need.

“Winchester,” Victor calls when he spots them. He’s an incongruous sight, standing by the ice cream truck with a cone in his hand, his men standing guard a few feet away.

“Enjoying that?” Dean asks with a grin.

“Best ice cream in the state,” Victor says, winking at the woman running the truck. “But that’s not what we’re here to talk about, is it?”

“Not exactly.”

Cas and Garth stay with Victor’s men as Dean and Victor walk off towards the benches. Sitting down, Dean looks around and makes a face. “I shoulda got one of those cones.”

Laughing, Victor shakes his head. “How’re things going? Porn business going well?”

“Sex, death, taxes,” Dean says. “It’s where the money is. Pipeline strong?”

“Demand is up. Could do with a increase.”

“Gotta deal with Jersey, but I could make that work.” Dean looks at Victor, taking in the look on his face. “What’s going on?”

“Hearing rumours.”

“That’s never good.”

“Luke,” Victor says, and Dean swears, standing up and squeezing his fists by his sides. He can see Cas looking to make a move to come over, and Dean raises his hand and shakes his head.

“Seriously?” he asks, turning to face Victor again. “When did he resurface?”

“Not entirely sure he has yet, but there’s been fires along the state line that we think are tied to him, and you know he’ll come at you since you control everything.”

“War.”

“Yep.”

“I got Azazel selling drugs in my town, and now this fucking idiot wants to cause chaos.” Dean makes a face and shrugs. “You got my back?”

“I’m not looking to take part in a war, but, yeah, I got you.” Victor pauses to lick at his cone. “Dean, you know Azazel and Luke have history, and Azazel will work for anyone who gives him backing. You put those pieces together and—.”

“I know,” Dean says with a sigh. “There’s a plan here, and I don’t know what it is.”

“Be careful,” Victor says. “You go after that thread and you’re only gonna be pulling Luke closer to you.”

*

They drive back to town, leaving Garth to head back to the garage while they go to the house. “How long until your mom comes over?” Cas asks as they go inside, walking through to the kitchen, Dean following close behind.

Rummaging through the fridge and pulling out two beers, Dean shrugs and looks at the clock hanging above the stove. “There’s a reason I wanted to set out early to meet Victor,” Dean says, handing over a beer to Cas and waggling his eyebrows.

“What did Victor say?” Cas asks as he takes the beer.

“That was not the reason,” Dean grumbles, leaning in and kissing Cas, holding his bottle by his side, his free hand sliding under Cas’ clothes in search of skin; fingers trace along the tattoos he has memorised, and Dean lets himself get lost in Cas because, fuck, he’d much rather deal with this than the prospect of what might be coming.

Parting to catch a breath, Cas leans his forehead against Dean’s forehead. “That bad?” Cas asks quietly.

Dean sighs, pressing another kiss against Cas’ mouth before shrugging. “Luke. Victor says Luke’s back, and it’s likely he’s the one backing Azazel.”

“Fuck,” Cas breathes out. “That’s bad. He’s going to want war.”

“I know.”

“Everyone’s going to be in danger.”

“Yep.”

“Okay,” Cas says, his voice hard. “I’ll make sure we’re stocked.”

Dean smirks, reaching down and grabbing Cas’ crotch. “I think you’re pretty well stocked.” Cas puts his bottle on the counter and rests his hands on Dean’s hips, pulling him in tight, and Dean goes willingly, letting go of Cas’ crotch before sliding his thigh between Cas’ legs and relishing the shudder that comes from Cas. It’s never not good with Cas, the years they’ve spent together only making Dean hungrier for him, never wanting anything or anyone other than Cas.

Cas’ hands work quickly, getting both their pants undone, and Dean’s pushing Cas up against the counter, not wanting anything other than to get off right now, release all the goddamn stress of the day; it’s anything but elegant, but it’s exactly what Dean needs, and from the way Cas is digging his fingers into the small of Dean’s back, his mouth moving against Dean’s neck, he’s feeling the same goddamn way. Before long, there’s a mess between them, and the only sound in the kitchen is the both of them breathing heavily.

“Well,” Cas says, his lips still resting against Dean’s neck. “If we’ve got a war coming, we’re going to go out with a bang.”

“Really, Cas?”

“What? It was funny.”

“It’s a good job I love you.”

*

Later that night, the house is full of the crew; Dean at the head of the table with Cas by his side, his mom at the other end, family scattered along the lengthy table that used to sit in Mary’s house before Dean became President. It’s warm, dirty jokes being told, and good food being passed around. Mary had spotted the bruises on Dean and Cas’ hands as soon as she’d arrived, and even now she’s talking about how her boys keep getting into trouble.

Dean’s passing the potatoes Cas made—some kind of fucking magic with the way he uses garlic—when there’s a loud banging against the door; his hand automatically goes to the gun in his holster and Sam sends him a worried glance. Dean’s not taking any chances and he nods over at Sam, getting up from the table, trusting Sam to follow him, trusting the rest of the guys to keep everyone in one room just incase.

Normally, no one would risk coming at the house directly, but given the information Victor’s passed on, Dean isn’t taking any chances. Foregoing the peephole, Dean flings the door open, his gun drawn, and swears loudly when he sees a blonde teenage girl standing there.

“The fuck—” he shakes his head and re-holsters his gun. “Bit late to be selling girl scout cookies, isn’t it?”

“Is Mary here?” the girl asks, cool as anything, like Dean hadn’t just pulled a gun on her.

“Who’s asking?”

“Claire.”

“Claire.” Dean makes a face and turns to Sam. “Claire wants to see mom.”

“I’ll get her,” Sam says, a slightly amused smile on his face as he walks back into the house.

“So,” Dean says, looking at Claire. “You often turn up on people’s doorsteps in the middle of the night?”

“It’s, like, ten thirty, old man.”

“You are aware I just pulled a gun on you, right?”

Claire shrugs, staring at Dean with a familiar set jaw, and, damn but if his mom wasn’t right about this kid. She’s got a bag at the bottom of her feet that Dean would bet holds all her worldly possessions, her arms are crossed over her raggedy hoodie, and her braid is coming undone. Dean’s about to say something when his mom rests a hand on his shoulder and gently pushes past him.

“Claire, what are you doing here?” she asks.

“Didn’t have anywhere else to go,” Claire says with a shrug. “I had to get out.”

“What about the group home?”

“The girls don’t like me,” Claire says, nudging her bag with her foot. “Can I—not for all the time—just for tonight, can I stay with you?”

Mary puts her arm around her and pulls her in. “Kid, you’re gonna have to go back there eventually—”

“But—”

“I still have some pull in this town,” Mary says, steering Claire towards the house. “You’ll stay with me tonight.”

Dean shakes his head, staring after them. “So I’ll get her bag?” he mutters to himself, picking up Claire’s duffle and heading inside the house where he finds Cas waiting for him.

“Who’s the kid?” Cas asks, as Dean drops the bag on the ground.

“One of mom’s projects, ran away from the home. Sound familiar?”

“I was never one of your mom’s projects.”

“You kind of were,” Dean says, leaning in and pressing a kiss against Cas’ cheek. “But mostly you were family.”

“Do you think Claire’s going to become family?”

There’s a burst of laughter coming from the dining room and Dean rolls his eyes. “Mom likes her,” Dean says. “Said she reminds her of me.”

“So she’s trouble,” Cas says with a grin as they head back to the table.

“Shut up.”

*

After dinner, when everyone is gathered around and relaxing, drinking and exchanging stories, the kids looking at Bobby with awe as he teaches them sleight of hand tricks, Dean notices Claire slipping out of the room. Patting Cas on the leg, he gets up and follows her, finding her in the kitchen curled up on a chair at the table picking at a bowl of chips left out.

“Hey, kid,” he says, taking a seat next to her.

“Scared I’m gonna steal the family silver?”

“Nah,” Dean says. “That’s all at my mom’s place.” There’s a slight huff of laughter from Claire, but she quickly covers it up, looking away from Dean. Her fingers crumble the last of the chips and she wipes her hands on the tablecloth before tugging the sleeves of her hoodie over her hands. “Too much for you in there?” Dean asks. “I can get that, we can be kind of overwhelming.”

“It’s not that, it’s—I haven’t had anything like this since my parents died. We’d have family dinners every day, my dad would get home from work and my mom would be finishing the food up, he’d sneak in and hug her, kiss her, it was perfect.”

“What happened?”

“Car crash. I survived,” Claire says quietly, running a finger over her head. “Got a scar right here.”

Dean nods. “My dad died in, well, not exactly the same way, but it was while he was on the road.”

“You still had your mom, though.”

“I did. I was lucky,” Dean says. “I had the club as well, and Sammy, and Cas. You never had anything like that?”

Claire shrugs, rubbing at her eyes, her make up smearing a little. “My grandma took me in for a while, but then she started to forget things, like buying groceries and doing laundry, so I ended up in the home. No one wants a teenager.”

“You know Cas was in that place? The one for boys, but that’s where he was.”

“He hate it as much as me?”

“More,” Dean says, taking a swig of his beer. “He got fostered a few times, but he ran away more times than I could count. Always came to the house, or to the garage, wherever the club was, he turned up.”

“Were his parents members?”

Dean shakes his head. “Drifters,” he says. “They walked out on their kids, left them in the house alone. Took three days before my mom went knocking on their door and found them like that. Cas and Gabriel, they ended up in the home, Gabriel got adopted pretty fast, he’s always been good at putting on a face that people want to see. Cas, though, he was a stubborn little shit even back then. Didn’t want to be anywhere other than with the club.”

“With you, you mean.”

“Maybe.”

Claire looks down at her hands for a moment. “I’m not like the other girls there,” she says. “The ones there that are my age? They’re lifers, they know they’re not getting a family, they don’t have support when they get out, and they’re prepared for that.”

“They violent?”

“They leave me alone ever since I forced one kid’s head into the wall. She bled for hours.”

Dean raises an eyebrow at her. “Okay,” he says. “Guess you don’t need any protection.”

“I learnt fast,” Claire says with a shrug. “I kind of had to.”

“Okay,” Dean says, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Here’s what’s going to happen; you’re gonna stay with my mom tonight, you’re gonna take my number, so if anything happens you’re going to call me, got it?”

“Yeah,” Claire says quietly, taking out her own phone. “But—why are you doing this?”

“Because my mom thinks you’re worth it, which makes you family, and we take care of our own.” Claire doesn’t say anything in response, but she puts Dean’s number in her phone, which is the most Dean could hope for. “I’m gonna go back in,” he says, standing up. “You come in when you’re ready.”

Claire nods, leg pulled up on the chair, cheek resting against her knee. “Thanks, old man.”

“Enough of that,” Dean says, pointing at her as he walks out. Mary’s waiting for him in the hallway, and he raises an eyebrow at her. “Yes?”

“Claire okay?”

“Not yet,” he says. “But we’ll take care of her.”

“That’s my boy,” Mary says, cupping his face for a moment. “Go back to everyone, I’ll take Claire home.”

“Okay,” Dean says. “Be safe.”

*

“What happened to Claire?” Garth asks the next day at the clubhouse.

“Mom drove her back to the home this morning,” Dean says, leaning back in his chair. “She’s definitely gonna wait for the right moment to run again, but she’s back there for now.”

“She’s an interesting kid,” Garth says. “Tried to teach me how to pick a lock.”

Rufus snorts, sitting forward and pointing at Garth. “Son, if you don’t know how to do that, I don’t know what you’re doing here.”

“I know how to pick a lock, Rufus,” Garth says defensively. “You taught me.”

“Okay,” Dean says loudly, dragging the attention back. “If we’re all done with memory lane, can we get back to business?”

“What’s up?” Sam asks.

“Jody got in touch, the bodies that were dumped were definitely Vamps, and they were tortured.”

“That’s not Azazel,” Bobby says, shaking his head. “Not his style.”

“Victor said he’s heard rumblings about Luke,” Dean says. “And that’s exactly the kind of thing he’d do.”

“Aw, hell,” Bobby says. “We don’t need another war, kid.”

“You think I want one? We’ve done nothin’ and now this guy is gonna be gunning for us.” Dean runs a hand through his hair and glances over at Cas, taking strength from the way Cas is there, will always be there, a steady presence by his side. “Benny’s coming in to pick up the bodies and take ‘em home, should be stopping through the clubhouse soon, take that look off your face, Sam, you don’t even have to be here.”

“What? I didn’t—”

“Go hang at the studio with Gabe if you don’t want to see him—”

“He got you shot, sorry I’m—”

“He did _not_ get me shot, the asshole with the gun got me shot,” Dean says, his voice getting louder. “Seriously, I don’t need any extra damn trouble, so either act like an adult, or go and watch some porn.”

“Fine.”

Dean sighs and looks over at Sam. “I know you don’t like him, but he’s just lost two men, and if this war happens we’re gonna need all the backup we can get.”

“I get it, Dean, I do.”

“Good.”

*

When Dean was younger, a little less concerned with the reputation of the club, he and Benny would run riot along the border of the town, hitting up bars and getting into more fights than either of them had had hot dinners. Cas would be alongside them, sometimes, but he and Benny never really got on; Cas was more for the subtle ways of hurting people, liked his knives, liked being the quiet one who no one knew was dangerous. Benny was always loud, as soon as he walked into a bar, everyone there knew he was there to cause trouble, and they either walked away, or readied themselves for a fight.

The Benny that pulls up into the garage is a whole hell of a lot more sober than the last time Dean saw him; there’s a black bandana wrapped around his arm over his leather, and Dean knows the van coming in behind Benny’s bike is carrying the bodies of the Vamps.

They exchange greetings, and Dean ushers Benny and his men into the clubhouse. “Ed,” Dean calls over to one of the prospects lurking around. “Shots, now.”

The kid pours out shots for everyone in the bar, and when he’s done, Dean raises his to Benny. “For your loss,” he says, before tipping it back. The rest of the clubhouse follows, and, at a look from Dean, they all head out, leaving he and Benny to talk.

“You okay?” Dean asks, reaching behind the bar and grabbing the bottle Ed left. Pouring out two glasses, he pushes one towards Benny.

“They were good men,” Benny says, cradling the drink in one hand. “Didn’t deserve that.” He throws back the drink before placing it back on the sticky wood of the bar. “You hear who it was?”

“Heard rumours.”

“Luke?”

“Sounds like you’re hearing the same rumours,” Dean says, passing the bottle over to Benny. “You hear any specifics?”

“Only that he’s not going to hold back,” Benny says, pouring himself another measure. “Which I guess my guys are bearing the brunt of.”

Dean nods, his fingers running along the rim of his glass. “Given any thought to a patch over?”

“Brother, I don’t know. We’re hurtin’. Gotta get my house in order before I can think of that.”

“I can respect that.” They sit in silence, the noise from the garage filtering through, the boys in the courtyard talking, and Dean lets it wash over him before he stands up and pulls Benny into a hug. “You need anything, you call, you hear me?” he says before letting go and stepping back. “We’ll send some people when you bury your guys, this club won’t let you stand alone.”

Benny nods and slings back the rest of his drink before walking out of the clubhouse. He’s barely been gone a minute before Cas walks in. “Jody’s here,” he says, picking up the glass Dean left on the bar and taking a drink. “She wants to talk to you.”

“Sure,” Dean says, running a hand over his face. “Why not add on to this bitch of a day.”

Jody’s waiting by her car and the look on her face is nothing good. “Winchester,” she says, her sunglasses hiding her eyes from him.

“What is it, sheriff?”

“Couple dealers were found outside the Roadhouse,” she says. “Beaten close to death. Funny thing is, they’re not talking about who did it, and no one who was there is saying a word either.”

“That is funny,” Dean says. “Of course, being that they’re such fine, upstanding members of society, they wouldn’t be telling the truth even if they did talk, right?”

“That’s one way of looking at it,” Jody says. “You know the drill, Dean.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Don’t be a smartass.” Jody looks over the courtyard at a 70’s Dodge Challenger being towed in by Garth. “Looks like you’ve got work to do, being nothing more than a humble mechanic, obviously.”

“You’re never gonna let that go, are you?” Dean says, stepping back as she gets back into her car. “I was young.”

“You were twenty-four,” Jody calls out of her rolled down window. “Old enough to know better.”

Dean laughs as he watches her drive off, nods to the prospects when they close the gates behind her, and turns to see what Garth has brought them. There’s smoke coming out from under the hood, and Dean’s wondering why everyone is staring at the car because it’s not the worst or best looking vehicle they’ve had come in lately, but his question is answered as soon as the driver gets out of Garth’s cab; she’s stunningly beautiful, red hair tumbling down her shoulders, wearing a pair of skintight jeans and a tank top.

Garth’s bright red as he helps her down, and Dean’s fairly certain he sees the prospects running into the garage to fight over who gets her something to drink. Rolling his eyes, Dean walks over to Cas and leans against the Impala. “Think they’re gonna end up fighting over who gets to do the work on her car?” he asks.

“I think Ed and Harry already are fighting,” Cas says, squinting as he looks towards the garage. “If they get blood on my tools, I’m going to shoot them.”

“Okay, but mom will be annoyed that you did that before the cookout.”

“She’d get over it.”

“Unlikely, the prospects are running the raffle ticket booth.”

Cas sighs, pushes off the fence and looks at Dean. “I’ll try not to shoot them,” he says, before turning to walk towards the garage.

“S’all I ask, sweetheart,” Dean calls after him.

*

The cookouts have been going for as long as the club has been in town; back when the club started, Mary wanted to make sure the community accepted them, wanted to make sure that the club became part of the town they’d chosen to settle in.

After his shift at the grill stall ends, Dean walks around the area, checking in with the girls at the cotton candy stall, all the while keeping an eye out for any trouble. It’s starting to get dark, and there are local kids on the stage playing a cover of Knocking On Heaven’s Door, Ben’s part of the band and Dean shoots him a grin when he passes by.

Grabbing a pastry from the stall that Bobby’s running, Dean watches as Sam and Chuck walk off to set up the fireworks, the band finishing the song before his mom goes onstage to announce the winners of the raffle. She’s almost done when Dean spots Kevin’s mom walking towards him.

“Mrs Tran, enjoying the cookout?”

“I need to talk to you,” she says, and, man, Dean doesn’t like the sound of that in so many ways. “There’s been men I don’t recognise outside my house when I’ve got the children.”

“For how long?”

“A few days.”

Dean frowns, touches her arm and leads her away from the crowds. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I wasn’t sure what was going on, but they’re only there when the children are with me, if it’s me by myself, they’re not there. I think they’re keeping track of people who are associated with you, but vulnerable because they’re not a part of the club.”

“The girls at the studio,” Dean says under his breath. “Shit. Sorry.”

Mrs Tran eyes him with some amusement. “I’ve heard worse,” she says. “Dean, I’m happy to continue having the kids in the house while the girls work, or while you guys need some help, but I’ll feel a lot better if you could have someone there.”

“Consider it done. There’ll be two of our guys outside the house every day, you don’t have to worry about that, okay? Nothing’s going to happen.”

Fireworks start going off and Mrs Tran heads off towards the food stalls, muttering about how she hasn’t been able to eat all day. Dean watches her go, and catches Cas walking towards him, carrying two ice cream cones in his hand.

“What did Linda want?” Cas asks, handing over a cone to Dean.

“Apparently there’s been people hanging outside her house when she’s got the kids. Need to set up a watch.”

“Take Gabriel off the studio, he and I will take it.”

“You sure?”

“You need the best,” Cas says. “It’s the kids, you can’t risk it, and you know Gabriel and I work together almost as well as you and I do.”

“I’ll have to get someone else on the studio.”

“Give it to the prospects,” Cas says, leaning in and licking Dean’s cone. “They’ll be glad to have a job that’s in the realm of importance, and Charlie’ll give them a dressing down if they act idiotic.”

“That’s a good plan,” Dean says. “But stop stealing my ice cream.”

“You gonna punish me?”

Dean laughs before catching Cas’ mouth in a sloppy, ice cream coated kiss. “Maybe,” he says when they part. “If you’re good.”

*

Dean’s on the phone to Victor when Bobby comes marching in, a look on his face that Dean hasn’t seen since he was a kid. “Victor? I gotta go, we’ll be up with you soon, set up that meeting with Billie for me, okay? Okay.” Ending the call, Dean looks up at Bobby. “What happened?”

“Cas and Gabe got the guys who were around Linda’s place.”

“And?”

“And they’re in the back of a van.”

“Alive?”

Bobby pulls a face at him. “They were threatening the family, what do you think?”

Dean rubs his hands over his thighs before standing up. “Okay. Right. Border?”

“Yeah.”

“Get on the burner, let him know I’m coming.”

“You know they can take care of it,” Bobby says, resting a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “You don’t have to be there.”

“Yeah.” Dean shakes his head and shrugs. “I do, though. It’s my club, my guys, I gave the order. My responsibility.”

“You’re doing a good job, kid. With the club, the possibility of war, you’re handling it solid.”

“Thanks, Bobby.”

Dean heads out of the office and goes straight to his bike, trusting that Bobby’s letting Cas know he’s on his way; he knows exactly where he’s heading, there’s a spot over the border far away enough from anything associated with them, far away enough from any people, and it doesn’t take Dean long to get there. Cas is leaning against the van with Gabe, and Dean can see the blood staining Cas’ hands, which is a familiar sight. There’s a jolt of excitement low in Dean’s groin, and it may well be fucked up, but he wouldn’t be in this life if he didn’t like things a little fucked up.

“They definitely gone?” he asks as he gets off the bike.

“Yeah,” Gabe says. “We were gonna wait, but they started talking about the kids and, well, that wasn’t gonna fly.”

“They say who they were working for?”

“Luke,” Cas says, pushing off the van and opening the doors. “They were working for Luke.”

Dean looks inside, taking in the mess that Cas and Gabe made of their faces, the stab marks along their torsos, and he knows that they suffered before they eventually died. There’s blood all inside the van, splattered up the sides and on the roof, and that’ll be work for the prospects when they get the van back to the garage. “We’re not hiding them,” Dean says, eventually. “Luke thinks he can send his guys here, we’re showing that we’ll send them out. Leave them here, over the border, but don’t bury them.”

When he’s finished talking, Cas is already next to him, and together they pull out the first body, dropping him on the ground with an audible thud. Gabe holds the feet and drags him along the ground, dust kicking up as he goes. They move quickly, the sun beating down on them as they get the second body out and dumping him next to the first one.

“This is going to start the war,” Gabe says, lighting a cigarette and sitting on the edge of the van.

“They started it when they sent people into our town,” Dean responds, leaning into Cas. “We’re going to finish it.”

“There’s gonna be losses,” Gabe says, looking up at Dean.

“Yep. We’re going to make sure it’s not ours.”

*

With the confirmation that Luke is making a play for the town, the trip to visit Victor becomes a priority, and they’re about to set out the next morning when Dean gets stopped by his mom.

“This is going to be bad, honey,” she says, picking up her mug of coffee on the office desk. “You know what you’re going to do?”

“Mom, I don’t wanna talk about this with you,” he says, leaning down and kissing her forehead. “You’ve been through a war before, I’m not getting you involved in this one.”

“I’m your mother, I’m a part of this club, and I have experience in this that you’re going to need, so don’t you even think of cutting me out.”

Stepping back, Dean shakes his head. “I’m trying to stop you from getting involved, for your own protection.”

“I got you, Sam, Cas, and the rest of this family protecting me,” Mary says. “I’ll be fine. You worry about what you’re going to do about this. You’re heading to see Victor, right?”

“Yeah, he’s set up a meeting with Billie so we can get some information on Luke,” Dean says, sticking his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “She knows everything, apparently, and I need to know everything I can.”

Mary purses her lips and nods. “Okay. Be careful.”

“Back at you,” Dean says. “Keep the garage on lockdown while we’re gone.”

“It’s not my first war, kiddo,” his mom calls as Dean walks out of the office.

He’s heading towards his bike when his phone goes off, suppressing a sigh when he sees Jody’s name come up. “Yeah?”

“You keep dropping bodies at the border, you’re gonna get the damn feds down here.”

“Nice to talk to you too, sheriff.”

“Dean, I don’t know what’s going on, I don’t want to know what’s going on, but get a goddamn handle on it before my station is taken over by men in ill fitting suits who I can’t protect you from.”

There’s silence after that, and Dean realises she’s hung up. “Great,” he mutters to himself, sliding his phone back in his pocket. “That’s just what I need.”

“You alright?” Sam asks as he comes up next to him.

“Just. Everything,” Dean says, shaking his head. “It’s gonna be war, and everyone is coming at me from different directions.”

“Yeah, but you got me, and you got Cas, and everyone else. All of us are gonna get through this.”

“Right,” Dean says with a sigh. “How’s the new girl you’ve been seeing?”

“Sarah? She’s great, man, really.”

“She know what you do?”

“She grew up around here, went away for college, came back.”

Dean nods, fiddling with the sleeve of his jacket. “Think she’ll be a permanent fixture?”

“It’s possible.”

“Gonna have to bring her to family dinner soon, then.”

Sam groans, running a hand through his hair, tying it up in a low bun. “I know, I know. Mom’s already said.”

Casting a glance to the side as Cas and Gabe get on their bikes, Dean sighs. “Heard from Ruby?”

“Not a word. Haven’t seen her around town, she hasn’t been near the house, if I didn’t know better, I’d say she left town.”

“But?”

“But that doesn’t sound right, not after the scene she caused here.”

“Good riddance, wherever she’s gone,” Dean says, revving his engine. “We’ve gotta go.”

*

Billie’s place is off the beaten track, and as they follow Victor and his guys, the paranoid part of Dean’s brain wonders if Victor’s gonna turn on him. It’s a ridiculous thing to think, he’s trusted Victor with so many things over the years, but with everything that’s been going on, Dean can’t help the quiet paranoia at the back of his brain. Soon enough they reach a small, but opulent, house and Dean follows Victor down the driveway until they reach a point where they can stop with the bikes.

Victor gestures to Dean to wait, and he walks up to the door, knocks against the solid wood before stepping back. The door opens, and a woman who Dean presumes is Billie stands there eyeing them curiously; she has a presence that Dean’s only ever felt from other club presidents and he’s a little thrown by it. Quickly adjusting, Dean steps forward when she nods at him.

“You want information,” Billie says, her eyes fixed on him.

“I do.”

“You’ll owe me a favour.”

“I’m good with that.”

“Okay,” Billie says, a satisfied smile crossing her face. “One of your men can come with you.”

Dean doesn’t say a word before Cas is by his side. “Him,” Dean says, trying to suppress a smile.

The inside of Billie’s house reminds Dean of a cabin his dad used to take them to when they were kids, there’s a warm vibe that sets Dean at ease. Billie leads them towards a back room which definitely doesn’t have the same vibe as the rest of the house, there’s a heavy wooden table that Dean can tell has metal reinforcement, and it’s shadowed by a locked cabinet that Billie immediately heads to, opening the top drawer and pulling out some files.

“Take a seat, boys.”

Dean exchanges a look with Cas and they sit down on the two seats on the opposite side of the table, and watches as Billie spreads the files out on the table before she takes a seat herself.

“Victor tells me that Luke has already left some bodies for you.”

“Not ours, but associates left on the border of our town.”

“And you’re sure it was Luke? Not anyone else who wants to get you?”

“We’re sure.”

Billie nods and pushes a folder towards him. “This is who you need to keep an eye out for, she’s Luke’s secret weapon.”

Dean eyes the folder but doesn’t touch it. “What do you mean by that?”

“She goes by Abaddon, and by the look on your boy’s face, I’m willing to bet he’s heard of her.”

Turning to look at Cas, Dean is taken aback by the look on Cas’ face. “What?” he asks, not having seen Cas look that shaken in years.

“Hermosa, four years ago.”

“The family that—”

“It was her, I heard the name when we went through on the charity ride. She’s quick, violent, and doesn’t care who gets caught in the crossfire.”

Dean sets his jaw and grabs the file, flicking through it. “She likes bombs,” he says as he reads. “That’s how she killed the family in Hermosa. Took out them, the neighbours, the damn stray cats the kid liked to feed.” There’s a bunch of information in the file, and Dean’s respect for Billie grows as he works his way through it. “Josie Sands?”

“Her real name,” Billie says.

“Why does that—oh _fuck_ ,” Dean blurts out, standing up, fumbling for his phone to call the garage. “Come on, pick up already. Cas, we gotta go, now.” Looking over at Billie, the phone still ringing endlessly at the garage, Dean nods to her. “Thank you.”

“Good luck,” she calls as Dean and Cas head out of the house.

Giving up on anyone answering, Dean hangs up, stuffing the phone in his pocket and hopping on his bike. “There’s something going on at the garage,” he shouts over at Victor as Cas, Sam, and Gabe start their bikes. “We’ve gotta head back.”

“Need back up?”

“Not sure, I’ll call you if we do.”

“Stay safe,” Victor says. Dean nods before he starts his engine and pulls out, heading back to the garage. There’s thoughts swirling around his head as they ride home, Dean’s read the file, knows what Abaddon is capable of, and the fact that she’s had access to the garage, to his _club_ , doesn’t sit well with him. Dean was prepared for Luke to come at them, but not this quickly, and not this well planned. Dust flies around him as they speed down the dirt road before getting onto the highway, and Dean wonders if he’s the best person to be president at time of war. He loves this club, has done since he first realised the world he was born into, and he doesn’t want to be the reason it dies.

*

They’re too late.

There’s a plume of smoke high above the garage by the time they make it into town, and when they make it to the property, there’s EMS vehicles in the forecourt and someone being loaded into an ambulance. Getting off his bike, Dean races forward, knowing that the boys will follow, and sees that it’s Bobby being taken away; they drive off before Dean can get to him, and he turns around, gazing at the still burning car just outside the garage building.

“Fuck,” he yells, turning around and looking at Cas. “The car, the goddamn car she left here, she had it wired.”

“Dean,” Cas says, grabbing Dean’s shoulder and squeezing. “Breathe.”

His hands shaking, Dean locks eyes with Cas and tries to follow his directions. There’s an acrid scent in the air that fills his lungs as he does so, but Dean puts it out of his mind and concentrates on Cas and the strong grip Cas has on him. “Okay,” he says eventually. “Okay.” He kisses Cas, a quick, reassuring touch before turning around. “Mom,” he calls, spotting her across the forecourt, Sam already making his way over to her. Dean follows Sam, leaving Cas to talk to the other members. “You okay?” Dean asks, looking her over.

“Fine,” Mary says. “Ears are ringing, but I was in the office, the car just... blew. Bobby was right by it, he’d driven it out after working on it and—”

“It’s okay, mom, we don’t need to talk about it,” Sam says.

Mary wipes underneath her eyes and places her hands on her hips, looking up at Dean and Sam. “Don’t coddle me. Bobby and Garth are seriously hurt, Rufus has cuts all over him, and the look on your face tells me you know what’s going on. So talk.”

“No,” Dean says before Sam can say anything. “We’re not talking about this until we get everyone together. You’re going back to the house, take Rufus with you and patch him up, I know damn well he’s not going to go and wait to be seen in hospital.”

“You’re giving me orders now?”

“My club came under attack today, mom, you’re damn right I’m giving you orders. Go. Home.”

Mary stares at him, and Dean stares right back until she shakes her head, a smile curving the corners of her mouth. “You’re making a good president,” she says, kissing Dean on the cheek, reaching an arm out to Sam and pulling him into a hug. “My boys.”

“Just trying to look after you,” Sam says, kissing the top of her head. “Like you looked after us.”

“Dean,” Cas says, coming up behind him. “We’ve sent the prospects to keep watch over Bobby and Garth, and Gabe’s gone to the studio.”

“Good,” Dean says, stepping back from his mom and Sam. “Thanks, Cas. Sam, tell Ellen and Jo what’s going on, you know the drill. Check on your girl as well, we don’t know what they know and I’m not having anyone else getting hurt on my watch. Mom, you and Rufus go home before he starts trying to stitch his own skin up.”

Dean turns to talk to Cas when his phone goes off. “What the fuck now,” he groans, pulling it out of his pocket. “Who is this?”

“Dean? It’s Claire, I—”

“Claire? What’s going on?”

“Don’t get mad, okay, I left the home, and I was doing okay, and I met this woman, she said she could give me a place to stay but—”

“Kid, breathe, what do you need?”

“I need _help_. The other girls are high, and I don’t know how long I can—”

“Where are you?” Dean interrupts, needing Claire to focus.

“Somewhere on Orchard, it’s a big house, Meg said—”

“Meg? Her name is Meg?”

“Yeah. Do you know her?”

Dean sighs, meeting Cas’ eyes. “Yeah, I know her. We’re coming to get you, okay? Hold tight.” Ending the call, Dean shakes his head. “Cas, with me. Meg’s got Claire.”

*

The house Meg has the girls stashed in isn’t hard to find, there’s a couple of Azazel’s men stationed outside, both with the look that says they’ve been sampling the goods they’re meant to be selling. Dean pulls the car up one street over and he and Cas make their way over, quickly taking care of both the men. Duct-taping their mouths closed, Cas looks over at Dean and smiles. “You take me on the nicest dates.”

“Shut up,” Dean says, returning the smile. “And hurry up, we’ve gotta get inside before Meg knows we’re here.”

“I saw an open window at the side,” Cas says, standing up and kicking the leg of one of the men. “Easy access.”

“That’s what she said,” Dean says under his breath as they head towards it. There’s no noise coming out of the room, so Dean sticks his head in, sees nothing but some foil and burners, and heads inside, Cas quickly following.

“Claire didn’t say where she was being held, did she?”

“Nope.”

“Okay.” Cas pulls out his knife, the light from the dim bulb in the room glinting off the blade. “Let’s go.”

The house is old, and not in very good condition, and each time Dean takes a step and hears a creak, he’s convinced someone’s going to come out and find them. They make it to the stairs, Dean heads up first, gun drawn, his eyes fixed on the next floor because he knows he has Cas at his back. When they get to the top, Dean counts five doors, all closed, and he’s damn tempted to start kicking them in when one of them opens. It takes all of two seconds before he recognises Meg and before she can start yelling, he’s got his hand over her mouth, Cas coming up behind her and putting his knife to her neck.

“You’re going to tell me what room Claire is in, or I’m gonna let Cas cut you up.”

Meg rolls her eyes at Dean before nodding, and Dean slowly takes his his hand off her mouth; Cas doesn’t move the knife from her neck, tilting it slightly so that the sharp edge of the blade is pressed against her throat. “Didn’t know she was one of yours,” Meg says.

“Yeah, you did,” Dean says. “Or else you wouldn’t have taken her.”

“You’re smart for a biker.”

“I’m telling you again, the room, or else Cas gets free reign.”

Meg smirks, pushing back against Cas. “And how do you know I wouldn’t like that?”

Dean presses his gun against her forehead. “Do that again, and this goes through your head.”

“Okay, okay, don’t bruise the moneymaker. She’s in the second room on the left.”

Nodding at Cas, Dean steps back, his gun by his side. “Come on.” He heads towards the room Meg mentioned, Cas dragging her along with him. Pulling his gun up, Dean opens the door slowly, eyes darting across the room until he sees Claire. She’s got her back against the wall, knees drawn up to her chest, and her bag pressed up against her side. “Claire,” he says, stepping inside and walking over. “You’re safe, okay? You’re coming with me.”

“I’m sorry,” she says, looking up at Dean. “I didn’t know who else to—”

“Don’t be sorry, you did exactly what you were meant to do,” Dean says, picking up her bag. “Come on, Cas is outside, you’re coming with us.”

She gets up, wiping at the smudged eyeliner under her eyes. “Is she there?”

“Meg? Yeah, Cas has got a knife to her throat.”

“Good,” she nods. “Okay.”

Dean raises his eyebrows and smiles a little, gesturing for her to follow him. Outside, Cas still has a knife to Meg’s throat, and somehow Meg manages to look completely bored with it. “We’re taking her,” Dean says, looking at Meg. “And don’t even think of telling your boss this happened.”

“No worries, Dean-o, I haven’t seen him in days.”

“Really?”

“Why would I lie to you?”

“Cas, take Claire outside.”

Dean waits until they’re downstairs before he pushes Meg against the wall. “You know anything about what happened at the garage today?”

“I don’t deal in bombs, you know that. I deal in girls and drugs, not death.”

“Tell that to everyone who overdoses on your product.”

“Whatever, I don’t force it down them. The garage smells like Luke to me, and if you’ve got him gunning for you, you’ve got bigger problems to deal with than where my boss is. Now, you gonna let me go?”

“I don’t need your shit, Meg. Stay away from my family.”

“She’s your family now?” Meg calls as Dean walks away. “Claire?”

“Yeah. She is.”

*

Mary gives him a look when they pull up to her house with Claire, and Dean knows he’s gonna have to explain later, but he needs a damn break from everything that’s been going on, so he grabs a beer from the fridge and heads outside. It’s a warm night, his kutte sticking to the back of his shirt, and he looks out at the garden from his seat on the porch swing, smiling at the flowers his mom takes so much pride in. His dad’s ashes are buried underneath the rose bush at the back of the garden, and Dean used to spend hours out there talking to no one. He knew his dad wasn’t really there, that death was the end, but it was something to do.

“Hey,” Cas says, stepping outside and closing the door behind him. “Your mom is not happy with us.”

“She rather we’d left Claire there?” Dean asks as Cas sits next to him.

“She mentioned something about calling Jody instead.”

“Let the sheriff deal with our family business? My mom’s going soft.”

Cas laughs softly, kissing Dean’s cheek. “Don’t let her hear you say that,” he says as Dean turns his head, their mouths brushing together. It’s a tease, more than anything, holding back just to see, Dean’s tongue grazing across Cas’ bottom lip, his free hand reaching up and cupping Cas’ face.

“We used to get caught doing this,” Dean says against Cas’ lips, the corners of his mouth curling up in a smile.

“Your mom used to offer us lube,” Cas responds, pressing a light kiss against the corner of Dean’s mouth. “It was traumatising.”

“Yeah, I mean, she definitely knew I had some in my room,” Dean says, laughing when Cas smacks his arm.

“Stop talking about your mom when we’re making out.”

Dean leans back a little, huffing out a laugh when Cas follows him, pushing him back against the porch swing. “What you gonna do, Cas?” he asks, putting his beer on the ground.

“Guess,” Cas says, reaching for Dean’s buckle and sinking to his knees.

“Don’t think I need to guess.”

Cas smirks as he gets Dean’s cock free, spitting on his palm and wrapping his hand around it. Letting out a groan as soon as Cas touches him, Dean splays his legs, giving Cas easier access, and—God, he didn’t realise how damn tense he was until this very moment. Cas ducks his head, taking Dean in his mouth, and it’s all Dean can do not to push up into Cas’ mouth. It’s not slow, neither of them need it slow, but it’s so goddamn good, and Dean could give up anything, even his club, as long as he always had Cas. Reaching down, Dean buries his fingers in Cas’ hair, tugging just enough to get Cas to let out a noise around Dean’s dick.

“Cas— _fuck_ ,” Dean breathes out. Cas knows all the ways to get him close, and he’s ruthlessly exploiting that right now. There’s an edge to it, knowing they could get caught, that takes Dean back to being a teenager, to him and Cas desperate to get each other off and needing each other more than anything. The porch swing makes squeaking noises underneath him, his boots scraping against the wood as he comes, the fingers of one hand still gripping at Cas’ hair.

“Feel better?” Cas asks, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“C'mere,” Dean says, letting go of Cas’ hair and reaching for him, guiding him up until Cas is back on the swing with him. “You’re too good to me,” he says, kissing Cas, seeking out the taste of himself in Cas’ mouth. “Always.” His hand slides down to rest against Cas’ crotch. “Want me to—” Dean’s interrupted by a knock at the back door. “Hold on,” he says with a sigh. Standing up, he zips himself back into his pants and walks over to the door. “Mom, what is it?”

“Jody’s here,” she says. “She says she needs to talk to you.”

Exchanging a glance with Cas, Dean nods. “Give me a sec.”

Mary presses her lips together and nods, closing the door behind her.

“Think it’s Meg?” Cas asks, getting up and walking over to Dean. “About Claire?”

“No. Might just be about the garage.”

Cas scrunches up his face and shakes his head. “It’s late, she wouldn’t come here about that. She’d call.”

“Yeah,” Dean says, opening the door. “Guess we gotta see what it is.”

Jody’s in the kitchen with Mary waiting for them, and Dean hasn’t seen the look on her face since she arrested Gabe for singing outside some girl’s window. “Dean, we’ve got a problem.”

“Okay.”

“Azazel’s turned up dead.”

“You looking for me to write the eulogy, because no one is gonna wanna hear that.”

“Actually, I need to hear where you were earlier tonight.”

“Are you kidding?” Dean rolls his eyes and points at Cas. “With him.”

“I need more than that, Dean.”

“Family business. Ask Meg.”

“She’ll vouch for you?”

Dean shrugs. “Unless you wanna interview the traumatised teenager upstairs, then you gotta talk to Meg.”

“Okay, guess I’ve got someone to track down. Don’t leave town, don’t fuck up, there’s only so much I can do to protect you, you got it?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“And don’t be a smartass,” Jody says. “I don’t know what the hell is happening with the club, but a bomb? That’s Homeland Security, and it’s only dumb luck they don’t consider this a priority.”

“How much leeway have we got?”

“Bodies keep dropping, they’ll find an excuse to come down.”

“Thanks for the heads up.”

Once Jody’s gone, Dean turns to his mom. “Claire upstairs?”

“Yeah, I called the home, she’s staying here for a while.”

“Good, good. Neither of you go anywhere alone from now on. Cas, call Sam, make sure he tells Ellen and Jo the same. If Luke got rid of Azazel, then he’s off the goddamn reservation and he’s coming for us.”

*

Tearing down the crime scene tape, Dean stalks into the garage and stands at the edge of the mess from the explosion. The skeleton of the car was hauled away by Jody’s forensics guys, but there’s still debris scattered across the yard and scorch marks on the ground. Crouching down, Dean rubs his fingers against the marks and sighs as he spots blood on the ground from Garth’s head injury.

“Hey,” comes Sam’s voice from behind him. “Cas said you were here.”

“Yeah,” Dean says, getting back to his feet. “This is a fucking mess, Sammy.”

“Went to see Bobby and Garth before I came here; Bobby’s got a fractured ankle, Garth hasn’t woken up yet.”

“That meant to be good news?”

Sam laughs, not in humour, shaking his head. “Just... news, I guess. We good to clean up?”

“I don’t care if we’re not,” Dean says, walking over to the power hose. “I’m not having Garth’s blood on the ground any longer.”

Sam nods, rolling the sleeves of his plaid shirt up and reaching for the nearest bit of debris. They work quickly, and Dean appreciates that his brother doesn’t want to indulge in idle talk, they’re here to get the job done and that’s all. The Winchester way, Mary used to say, shoving down all your emotions to get the work done; there’s part of Dean that wishes he wasn’t like this, but living this life sometimes it’s what has to be done to get through.

Before too long, they’ve got the forecourt looking back to normal and Dean wipes the sweat off his forehead with the bottom of his t-shirt. “Open the bar up,” he says to Sam. “I’ll clear up the rest.”

Heading inside after putting the power hose away, Dean grabs the beer Sam’s left him on the bar and sits on a stool next to Sam. “So, your girl okay?”

“You can call her by her name,” Sam says, his fingers playing with the label on his bottle. “And, yeah, she’s okay. Hasn’t noticed anyone weird, hasn’t been approached, honestly I don’t know if they even know we’re dating.”

“If they don’t, they will.” Dean takes a swig from his beer and looks around the clubhouse. It was untouched by the explosion, but he can’t help thinking that if Abaddon got in, anyone could get in. “No new customers,” he says. “Can’t risk it until we’ve got rid of Luke.”

“You worried someone could get in?”

“Someone already did. We need to make sure no one else does. This is home, Sam, you know that.”

“Yeah.” Sam makes a face. “Hey, did mom tell you she’s taking Claire in?”

“She’s a good kid. Mad as hell, but it’s not like mom hasn’t dealt with that before.”

“You and Cas getting caught setting fires behind the pizza place.”

“You sneaking out to drag race with Garth.”

“You setting firecrackers off in the bathrooms at school.”

“You getting caught stealing a damn garden ornament.”

Sam laughs, his empty beer bottle tipping over. “What was it? A fish?”

“Mrs Tran wanted to kill you.”

“She likes me now,” Sam protests, his brow furrowing.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Cas gets to call her Linda.”

“Seriously? Why does she like him more than me?”

“Because Cas never stole her ornamental fish,” Dean says before taking a swig of his beer.

“He did blow you in her car the last time she brought it in for servicing.”

Dean spits out his beer and wipes his mouth, staring at Sam. “How the fuck do you know that?”

“Didn’t, until just now.”

“The fuck, Sam?”

“You should see your face,” Sam laughs, hand on his chest. “You’ve still got beer on your nose, by the way.”

“I swear to god.” Dean swipes at his nose, putting his bottle on the bar. “Look, take Sarah out tonight. Me an’ Cas are staying in, we’ll call everyone in tomorrow, talk this shit out.”

“Sure?”

“Yeah, have a night off.”

*

Dean’s yanked out of sleep by a buzzing noise, reaching over towards the bedside table, he fumbles for his phone, trying not to disturb Cas who has an arm slung over Dean’s chest, his face curled in towards Dean’s shoulder. Squinting at the screen, he makes a face when he realises it’s Sam’s name, and clumsily swipes the screen to answer. “What?” he says as quietly as he can.

“We got a problem.”

“Which is?”

“Ruby’s dead. They left her outside the house and I’m being asked to come to the station.”

Sitting up, Dean ignores Cas’ groan of complaint and swings his legs out of the bed. “You called Bela?”

“Yeah, yeah, she’s meeting us at the station.”

“You were with Sarah all night, right? Did you go straight to her when you left the garage?”

“I stopped in and saw mom, went home to get changed, and then went to Sarah’s place. Dean, I gotta go, Jody’s making a face at me.”

The call ends and Dean throws his phone on the bed. “Fuck,” he barks out, resting his head in his hands.

“What’s going on?” Cas asks, making his way across the bed to sit next to him, sheets tangled around his body. Resting a palm in between Dean’s shoulder blades, Cas leans in and kisses Dean’s shoulder. “Dean.”

“Ruby’s dead, dumped outside Sam’s house, he’s been taken to the station.”

“Alibi?”

“Yeah, yeah, he was with Sarah, but we’re not gonna get a time of death until Jody manages to haul that goddamn useless doctor in, so—”

“Jody’s not going to keep him in, she knows he’s not a flight risk, especially at the moment.”

Dean lets out a breath, lifting his head and dropping his hands. Turning to face Cas, he presses their mouths together softly, once, twice, before reluctantly standing up. “I should get dressed.”

“I’m coming with you,” Cas says, reaching for his pants. “Sam’s been through worse, it’ll be okay.”

Forgoing clean clothes, they pick up the trail of clothing they left across the house earlier that evening, and head out. The bikes get them across town quickly, and Jody’s outside when they arrive.

“Thought you’d come down,” she says as they climb off their bikes.

“You letting my brother out?”

“Can’t do that yet.”

Dean clenches his jaw, looking away from Jody. “Why not?”

“We don’t know time of death, Dean, and she was outside his house.”

“Sam wouldn’t be stupid enough to leave a body there if he killed someone,” Cas says. “What about Sarah?”

“No offence, Castiel, but Sarah giving Sam an alibi is like you giving Dean an alibi,” Jody says. “I’m not saying I don’t believe him, but Ruby showing up is one too many bodies in my town recently. I told you, Dean, these are the consequences.”

“You act like I started this,” Dean bites out, meeting Jody’s eyes. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“Price of being who you are, kid,” Jody says, sympathy written across her face. “Look, I got to keep him in or else questions are going to be asked, and that _will_ bring the feds in, and I know you don’t want that.”

“He gonna be out by morning?”

“I’ve got Gaines coming in now, as soon as we get time of death, if Sam’s alibi holds up, we’ll let him out.”

Dean lets out a breath, his hands on his hips. “You’re not gonna let me see him, are you?”

“Not tonight, Dean. Phone call was a courtesy because I know this reaches further than whatever went on with Sam and Ruby.”

“Okay,” Dean says, deflating a little. “Tell him—fuck, tell him I won’t tell mom, and that he’d better be at the table tomorrow or else I’m looking for a new VP.”

“I’ll let him know,” Jody says, turning on her heel and heading inside the building.

Leaning against his bike, Dean reaches for Cas, smiling when Cas comes easily. Sliding a hand underneath Cas’ leather, Dean taps his fingers against the hilt of Cas’ knife. “Ever tell you how glad I am you carry this?”

“Since the day you gave it to me,” Cas says. “This was Luke, wasn’t it? He’s trying to weaken us.”

“Trying to break us, is what he’s doing,” Dean says, curling his arms around Cas’ waist, trying to get as close as possible to him. Cas’ arms come up around Dean’s shoulders in a loose hold, his fingers running along the back of Dean’s neck, and Dean feels the tension melting out of him. “You okay?” he asks, meeting Cas’ eyes. “This is rough.”

“Dean, I knew what I was getting into the day we met. Bobby was waving a knife at your dad and yelling about Sam not being allowed near the guns.”

“You remember that?”

“I was four, it made an impression,” Cas says, a wry smile crossing his face. “This is going to be war, I know that. My place, as it’s always been, is by your side. Whatever happens, I’m with you.”

Dean can’t resist kissing Cas in that moment, his fingers pressing against the small of Cas’ back, trying to take some comfort in the fact that no matter what’s happening around them, he has Cas and Cas has him. It’s enough to hold on to.

“We should go home,” Dean says when they part, his mouth still close enough to brush against Cas’ skin. “Or else Jody’s gonna catch me with your dick in my mouth out here.”

“I’d be okay with that,” Cas says, nipping at Dean’s lower lip. “But one Winchester in jail is enough for tonight.”

*

When Sam walks in the door of Mary’s house, he’s greeted with a smack to the back of his head from Mary. “Mom!”

“You get hauled in and you call Dean, not me?”

Dean raises his hands in surrender when Sam glares at him. “Hey, she heard it from Rufus, not me.”

“How did Rufus find out?”

“How does Rufus ever find out anything? Dude knows everyone. Sarah get home okay?”

“Yeah,” Sam says, pouring himself coffee. “I dropped her home before I came here.”

“You stink, by the way.”

“Thanks, Dean. Not like I’ve spent the entire night in a cell or anything.”

“Just saying, we could’ve waited for you to shower.”

“Can’t, the house is still a crime scene,” Sam says through a yawn. “I still have some clothes here, right mom?”

“In your old room,” Mary says as Sam heads towards the stairs, mug clutched in his hand. Turning to Dean, Mary eyes him. “Don’t think you’re forgiven for not telling me about that.”

“It was 3 in the morning, mom, I didn’t want to wake you up.”

Mary makes a disbelieving noise before looking over Dean’s shoulder. “Good morning Claire, did Sam wake you up?”

Claire yawns, her hair falling out of a haphazard bun, and shakes her head. “I was awake. Is there coffee?”

“Help yourself,” Mary says, gesturing to the pot. “I’m gonna make some calls.”

Dean pulls his mom into a quick hug before letting her leave the room. “You want breakfast?” Dean asks Claire, pulling out eggs from the fridge.

“You cook?” Claire stares at him over the mug she’s holding.

“Men can’t cook?”

“No, I just—you’re a biker.”

“Come back to me when you’ve been in lockdown with Bobby and Sam and their damn appetites, and fuck, Garth, he might be a skinny ass dude, but he packs food away like he’s running seven marathons. Scrambled or omelet?”

“Uh, scrambled,” Claire says, looking a little confused. “So, what happens now?” she asks, fiddling with an apple from the fruit bowl. “Feed me up and then I’m back at the home?”

Dean shakes his head as he cracks the eggs into the pan. “Not this time.”

“So, what?”

“You know what we do, right?”

“Duh.”

“Enough of that,” Dean says, pointing at her with the spatula. “There’s some trouble, and since Meg knows you, knows that you know us, you might be at risk. Mom’s pulled some strings, you’re gonna stay here with her until this blows over.”

“And after that?”

“Hey, after that you might want to get as far away from us as possible,” Dean says as he reaches into the cupboard for a plate. “Whatever you want afterwards, it’s your decision, okay? But, I’m telling you now, as long as you’re here, we’re gonna take care of you, capisce?”

“Yeah,” Claire says as Dean sets the food in front of her, the corners of her mouth turning up in what Dean thinks is the first real smile he’s ever seen from her. “Thanks.”

“Thank my mom,” Dean says, glancing at the clock. “Right, I gotta go, you settled? If you need anything, ask mom, and don’t go anywhere by yourself until we say it’s okay.”

Claire nods, and Dean heads up the stairs, banging on Sam’s childhood bedroom door. “Sammy! We gotta go, stop jerking off!”

“Seriously dude?” Sam yanks the door open, his hair still wet, and grabs his kutte from the bed before following Dean out of the house.

“What?”

“I’m not fourteen anymore, Dean.”

Dean gets on his bike and grins at Sam. “Come on, we’re gonna be late, I told everyone eleven.”

The roar of the bikes drowns out whatever Sam says in response, and Dean flexes his fingers, relishing in the looks they get from people on the street as they drive through town; on some of them it’s envy, on others it’s disgust, but it’s always a reaction, and Dean can’t get enough of it. Whatever they think of his club, it’s been part of this town for longer than some of them have been alive, and Dean’s not letting it go without a fight.

Cas, Chuck, and Gabe catch up to Dean and Sam fifteen minutes out from the clubhouse, and they fall into formation; Dean leading the pack with Sam and Cas behind him, and Chuck and Gabe bringing up the rear. They drive past Linda’s place, slowing down to make sure no one is outside, before carrying on to the garage. Rufus is waiting for them, hands on his hips and a glare on his face, and he shakes his head at them as they pull in and head inside the clubhouse.

“So,” Dean says, once they’ve all sat around the table. “Looks like Bobby’ll be home tonight, and Garth is awake. That’s the good news. The bad, well, we got hit, and it could’ve been damn worse than it was. Dumb luck that we didn’t lose anyone. It was a hired hit, most likely by Luke.”

“It’s war,” Gabe says bluntly. “That’s what he’s going for.”

“We’ve got no way of striking back,” Dean says, frustration creeping into his voice. “There’s nothing on him, he’s using contractors to hit us, trying to get us taken down by the feds instead of having to get his hands dirty.”

“What about the woman who left the car, Josie?” Rufus asks. “Anything on her?”

“Abaddon,” Cas says, his fingers rubbing against the table. “I think you all remember what she did in Hermosa.”

“Which is why we know we got off lightly with the garage,” Dean says. “Usual precautions for dealing with bomb threats, check everything, don’t let your family get into a car you think might be wired, call it in if you suspect anything.” Dean looks around the table until everyone nods in agreement. “In other news, got word from the parole board that Ash is gonna be back with us at the end of the week, so expect a party.”

*

The days leading up to Ash’s release pass without incident, which leaves Dean feeling uncomfortable. It’s the quiet before the storm, and he can’t help but think they’re woefully unprepared for whatever is going to happen; Victor and Benny have both promised back up, but they’re fighting blind right now, more on the defensive than anything else, and that’s not something Dean’s good at living with.

“We’re all stocked for tonight,” Chuck says, knocking on the bedroom doorframe and interrupting Dean’s thoughts. “There’s enough alcohol behind the bar to keep Ash drunk until sometime next year.”

Dean huffs out a laugh. “Thanks, Chuck. Did you hear back from Jersey?”

“Yeah, yeah, they’re fine with funnelling it through the studio, just gotta wait for them to set up the accounts and then we’re set.”

“Awesome, I’ll let Charlie know to expect an influx and not to touch it.”

Chuck scratches the back of his head awkwardly. “Uh, your mom brought Claire with her today.”

“And?”

“And Cas is teaching her how to box.” With that, Chuck walks away, and Dean’s left processing.

Getting up from his bed, Dean heads out of his room in the clubhouse and walks outside to see Claire in the boxing ring with Cas. They’ve managed to chase up some headgear and gloves for her at least, not throwing her into bare knuckling boxing, and she’s aiming punches at the pads Cas is holding with unnerving accuracy.

“Hey,” Dean says, leaning his hands on the ring. “What’s going on?”

Cas holds up a hand, getting Claire to pause, and crouches down to talk to Dean. “What does it look like?”

There’s sweat making Cas’ hair stick to his forehead, and he’s got his shirt off, exposing his tattoos to everyone. As always, Dean’s eyes are drawn to the small lock tattooed over Cas’ heart, and he shakes his head, looking up at Cas again. “There a reason you got your shirt off?”

Sticking his head through the ropes, Cas presses their mouths together in a quick, hard kiss. “Later,” he says, standing back up. “Promise.”

Dean takes a couple of steps back from the ring and sits on one of the benches to watch. Cas doesn’t go easy on Claire, but she keeps up, her feet moving quickly, ducking when she needs to, keeping her hands up, and Dean’s impressed. There’s always been a thought in the back of his mind about opening a boxing and training centre in town, he loves the garage but it was his dad’s project, not his. Getting his phone out, he shoots a text to Kevin, asking him to look into property in the town that could become a gym. There’s nothing to lose, if they survive the upcoming war, then it’ll be a good future investment for him and the club, and if they don’t survive, then he won’t have to worry about it.

“Fuck,” Cas cries out, and Dean looks up to see Cas grabbing his side, Claire standing with a sheepish look on her face.

Bobby snorts and looks at Cas. “Your own fault, boy, you never could concentrate on the ring when Dean was around.”

“Suddenly this is my fault?” Dean raises his eyebrows and smirks at Cas. “Am I distracting you, Princess?”

“What did I say about the next time you call me that?” Cas is eerily calm, and Dean’s smile just gets bigger.

“Not in front of the children,” Dean says.

“Forget the children,” Bobby grumbles. “You two wanna flirt, go do it somewhere else.”

“I’m gonna go and see mom anyway,” Dean says. “Claire, try not hurt Cas too much.”

“Can’t promise anything,” she calls as he walks away towards the office.

Pushing the door open, Dean walks in and kisses his mom on the top of her head. “Hey mom.”

“You here to do some work?”

“If you insist,” he says, sitting in the other chair. “What is there?”

“I’ve got to call the tire guys, they’re over charging, so can you go through these invoices, there’s some that need chasing up.”

Dean nods, taking the stack of invoices from her and picking up the office phone, his mom uses the other line to call the tire guys, and Dean knows he doesn’t want to be on the other end of that phone call.

When the garage was first opened, Dean would sit in the office with his mom, wait for her to get preoccupied with paperwork, and sneak out to find his dad or Bobby. When he was six, he and Cas had managed to get into a industrial sized jug of engine oil and ended up looking like damn swamp monsters.

“What’s going on out there?” Mary asks, the phone dangling from her fingers before she hangs up.

“Cas is teaching Claire how to box,” Dean responds, filing the paid invoices away. “She’s good.”

“You’re thinking about opening a gym again, aren’t you?”

“Ma—”

“Dean, between Bobby and I, we can handle things here.” Mary reaches over the desk and pats Dean’s hand. “You wanna build your own legacy, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“You don’t think dad would be disappointed?”

“I think it doesn’t matter what your father would’ve thought, I know you miss him Dean, but this is your choice, your life.”

“Yeah,” Dean says absently, checking his phone. “Ash is out and heading here. You and Claire should go home, I’ll close up.”

Mary gives him an indulgent smile as she stands up. “It’s sweet that you think I don’t know what welcome home parties are like.”

“Oh I know you know what they’re like, but Claire shouldn’t experience them until she’s eighteen.”

“She’s eighteen next year.”

“Did I say eighteen?” Dean calls after her, “I meant thirty. Thirty is a good age.”

*

The party is barely three hours old and it’s already a fucking mess; Chuck is curled up on a chair in the corner clutching a bottle of scotch and muttering to himself, Bobby and Rufus are throwing knives at the dartboard while everyone tries to keep out of the line of fire, Ash is in the middle of at least five biker groupies, Charlie’s making out with Tessa on top of the bar, and Dean’s fairly sure he saw Gabe vanish with the pizza delivery guy.

“Yo, Dean,” Ash calls, sticking his head out from the masses of flesh surrounding him. “Best welcome home ever, dude, I love you.”

“Enjoy yourself,” Dean yells back, walking over to where Cas is sitting on a stool by the bar, a little way down from where Charlie and Tessa are. “Hey baby.” Dean slides his arms around Cas from behind, kissing behind his ear. “Wanna give them a run for their money?”

Cas laughs, leaning back into Dean’s embrace. “You know I prefer keeping you to myself,” he says, one hand wrapping around Dean’s wrist. “Do you want a drink?”

Dean shakes his head, his nose rubbing against Cas’ hair. “I’m good,” he says quietly, breathing in the scent of Cas’ leather, the weirdly fresh scent of his shampoo not overwhelmed by the smoke and alcohol in the building. Cas doesn’t move, his fingers running along the thin skin of Dean’s wrist, tracing along the lines of the dagger tattoo that extends down Dean’s arm. The party carries on around them, but Dean needs nothing more than this. “C’mon,” he says, letting go of Cas, running his hand over the back of his neck as Cas gets off the barstool and faces him. “Let’s... go.”

“Yeah?” There’s a grin on Cas’ face that says he knows exactly what Dean is suggesting, and Dean can’t help leaning in, laughing when Cas takes a step back; Dean gives chase, and Cas ends up with his back pressed against the bar, Dean kissing him with all he’s worth, his hands sliding down until he can grab Cas’ ass.

“Been half hard since you were boxing,” Dean mutters between kisses, catching Cas’ hand and tugging him along, trying to make his way towards the room they have at the clubhouse. Somehow, between groping at each other and trying not trip over everyone else in the clubhouse, they make it there.

Closing the door behind them, Dean heads straight for the bed, pulling Cas down with him; it’s been too damn long since they’ve been able to take their time to just make out, and Dean’s gonna take full advantage of it. The play of Cas’ tongue against his never gets old for him, the soft noises that Cas makes when Dean shoves his shirt up and trails his fingers against Cas’ skin always go straight to his dick, anticipation curling in his stomach at every touch Cas gives him until Dean’s on the verge of begging to be allowed to undress him.

Cas’ hair is a mess, his skin flushed, and Dean rolls him onto his back, pressing butterfly kisses up Cas’ throat, along his jaw until he reaches Cas’ mouth again. Dean seeks out Cas’ hand, threading their fingers together, and it’s just like it was when they were fourteen and sneaking make out sessions, tentatively trying to work out if they could have this, if they were allowed to be together. Squeezing Cas’ hand, Dean kisses him softly, almost chastely, and Cas smiles at him when he draws back. “What was that for?”

“Remember when we were fourteen?”

“You kissed me just like that for the first time,” Cas says, his grip on Dean’s hand tightening slightly. “Dean—”

“Look, I—if we don’t make it out of this, you gotta know that none of my life would’ve been half as good without you in it.” The grip Cas has on his hand starts to get painful and Dean shakes his head. “I’m not planning on losing this war, okay? I’m not. We’re gonna win, and we’re gonna make Luke regret he ever came for us, but if we don’t, I needed you to know that.”

“I love you too, Dean,” Cas says, using his grip on Dean’s hand to pull him closer. The kiss is more heated than the ones that came before, and Dean tries to push all the feelings he has into it because Cas has to know, needs to know just how lost Dean would be without him. Everything Dean’s ever gone through, Cas has been right there by his side, and Dean doesn’t know if he’s done enough to repay him.

Breaking the kiss, Dean sits up, shrugging out of his leather, dropping his kutte and jacket on the floor; Cas’ hands immediately start pushing at the edges of Dean’s t-shirt, and it’s not long before that’s gone as well, Cas’ fingers stroking along Dean’s stomach, tugging at the waistband of his pants. “Nuh uh,” Dean says, catching Cas’ hands and raising an eyebrow at him. “You’re overdressed.”

Scrambling to a kneeling position, Cas strips off his kutte, quickly followed by his t-shirt, and Dean can’t hold back from running his hands over Cas’ tattoos, ducking his head to press a kiss against the lock, Cas’ hand coming up to grip the back of Dean’s neck.

“Boots,” Cas whispers, and Dean raises his head, nodding at Cas. They move simultaneously, sitting on the edge of the bed and ridding themselves of their boots and socks, exchanging looks and soft kisses because there’s no way that Dean wants to stop touching Cas.

It always amazes Dean, how soft Cas can be in these moments; Dean’s seen him kill someone without a second thought, has been by his side as they’ve both exacted punishment on people, but when it comes to this, when it comes to _them_ , it’s like that side of him doesn’t exist.

Pushing Cas back against the bed, Dean slides down his body, fingers making quick work of Cas’ pants; Cas lifts his ass off the mattress, letting Dean pull them down and discard them on the floor, and then Dean’s left with a naked Cas in his bed.

“You’re the overdressed one now,” Cas says, and Dean smirks, looking down at himself.

“So I am,” Dean says, and reaches for his belt buckle, relishing the way Cas looks at him as he strips down. There’s no elegant way to get rid of his pants, so Dean just moves quickly before throwing them over his shoulder and clambering on top of Cas, sucking in a breath when their cocks brush against each other.

Cas’ hands slide up Dean’s back, pressing against the muscle, and Dean lets out a low groan when Cas’s fingers hit upon a sore point. “You okay?” Cas asks, his mouth brushing against Dean’s jaw.

“Long month,” Dean says, catching Cas’ mouth with his own and teasing at Cas’ bottom lip. “I’m good.”

There’s something about being here with Cas like this, skin against skin, that makes it seem like the rest of the world may as well not exist. Dean loses himself in the taste of Cas, the way Cas’ fingers skate over his skin, lighting it up as if he’s been hit with an electric charge, the slow roll of Cas’ hips driving Dean to distraction each goddamn time until he has to stop him, holding Cas down by the shoulders. “You want me to come before I fuck you?” he asks. “I’m not seventeen anymore, Cas.”

“I’ve got faith in you,” Cas says, trying to reach and touch Dean

Dean laughs and leans down, hands moving until they’re holding Cas’s arms above his head. The fact that Cas allows him to do this will never stop amazing Dean. “What if I want to make this last,” he says in a low voice. “What if I want to tease you, take you to the edge and keep you there until you’re begging to come?” Dean keeps his head just far enough away from Cas’ mouth that Cas can’t reach, and he grins at the glare Cas gives him. “What then?”

“Dean.”

“Yes Cas?”

“I will stab you.”

Dean grins, leaning down to kiss Cas, laughing when Cas nips at his bottom lip. “Sure you will,” Dean says, letting go of Cas’ wrists in order to reach for the lube on the bedside table, he’s barely got his hand around it before Cas is flipping him onto his back, taking up residence on Dean's stomach. “What the—”

“Feel,” Cas says, grabbing Dean’s free hand and tugging it behind him.

Dean goes with it, his fingers sliding around Cas’ ass until— “ _oh_ ,” he says, watching Cas’ face as he pushes the tip of his finger in. “When did you—”

“An hour ago,” Cas says, shoving his ass back against Dean’s finger. “When you were arguing with Sam.”

“You do it in here? Stretch yourself out for me? Did you use anything?”

Cas smiles down at Dean, his body curving over him, eyes closing as Dean adds another finger. “The red one,” he says. “You thinking about it?”

“Yeah,” Dean says, working his fingers in and out of Cas, marvelling at how open Cas is right now. Images of Cas on the bed, pushing the dildo inside him, all the while the party was going on outside the room. “Next time, I wanna be there.”

“Sounds good,” Cas says, leaning down and catching Dean’s mouth in a hot, wet kiss. Dean doesn’t want to let Cas go, but when Cas pulls away, he slides down Dean’s body until Dean’s cock is rubbing against the curve of Cas’ ass.

Taking his fingers out, Dean lets Cas grab the lube, watching as Cas squeezes some into his palm, reaching around and slicking Dean’s cock up, his fingers always so goddamn clever; Dean could grab Cas, could flip them over and fuck Cas into the mattress, but having Cas above him like this is something more than special.

“Oh _fuck_ ,” Dean gasps out as Cas lowers himself onto Dean’s cock, his hands gripping Cas’ hips so hard he wonders if there’s gonna be marks later; Cas’ hands are pressing just as hard against Dean’s chest and the idea of them both leaving bruises on each other makes the rest of Dean’s blood rush to his cock. When Cas is fully seated, Dean looks up at Cas and grins. “Hey,” he says softly. “You look good there.”

Cas laughs, curling his body down to lick at Dean’s throat, grazing his teeth against the heated skin; Dean rubs his thumbs against Cas’ hips, trying to resist the urge to grip harder and fuck Cas until he’s breathless and begging. It’s obvious that Cas has a plan, and Dean’s more than happy to lie back and see what that plan gets him. Cas moves slowly, so slowly that Dean would almost be convinced time has stopped if it weren’t for the noise filtering in from the party, but then Cas rolls his hips and Dean stops thinking about anything aside from what’s going on in this room.

There’s sweat sliding down Cas’ chest as he rides Dean, his hair matted, thick locks curling over his forehead, and once again Dean’s struck by how fucking hot Cas is; looking down, he wraps a hand around Cas’ cock, smirking when Cas falters in his slow rhythm. “Problem?” Dean asks, slowly stroking.

“Keep— _fuck_ —doing that.”

It’s not the easiest angle, but Dean keeps his hand on Cas’ cock, enjoying the weight of it in his hand, pre-come trickling out, and this is never going to be boring for him—Cas in his bed—he’s never gonna be sick of it. They’ve been doing this for more than half their lives and Dean still can’t get enough, doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough. It’s everything.

There’s a litany of words that don’t make any sense falling from Dean’s mouth as Cas stops moving, just sits on Dean’s dick and curls his body forward, their mouths colliding in a kiss that’s more shared breath than anything else; Dean takes the hint, holds on to Cas’ hips and bends his knees, placing his feet on the mattress and starts to move. Being inside Cas is like nothing else, and Dean’s barely holding on, with each thrust he’s a little bit closer to losing it, and he seeks out Cas’ mouth, exchanging sloppy, heated kisses as he comes, Cas swallowing the gasp of his own name. Letting go of Cas’ hips, Dean slides a hand between them, jerking Cas off slowly as they kiss, Cas trying to push back against Dean’s cock still inside him. “Come on,” Dean says against Cas’ open mouth. “Come on baby, come for me.” Dean swipes his thumb over the head of Cas’ cock, and then Cas is spilling all over Dean’s chest.

There’s nothing but soft attempts at kisses, Dean still buried inside Cas, neither of them too inclined to move; Dean runs his hands down Cas’ back, the sound of the party echoing outside the room and Dean knows they should go out and make sure no one is destroying anything, but Cas is sucking a mark against his neck and he really doesn’t want to interrupt that.

“You giving me a hickey?” Dean eventually asks.

“You brought up when we were fourteen,” Cas responds, licking the spot on Dean’s neck he’s been working at. “I was nostalgic.”

Dean hums, fingers brushing over Cas’ ass, giving it a light smack and letting out a soft laugh at Cas’ reaction. “Gotta pull out,” he says, soothing Cas’ grumbles with a kiss as Cas shifts enough to let Dean slip out. Cas sprawls on top of Dean, tucking his face against Dean’s neck and, yeah, they should probably go and rejoin the party, but everyone out there is old enough to take care of themselves, and Dean doesn’t want to be anywhere else but here.

*

Ash fits back into the club like he’s never been away, and takes up a lot of the work they’ve been putting onto Kevin, sitting in the clubhouse with his laptop whirring away. Or, he’s looking at porn. Dean really doesn’t want to know if that’s the case because fuck knows what kind of porn Ash is into.

It’s been quiet since Azazel and Ruby’s bodies showed up, Dean and Sam’s alibis checked out for Jody, but she’s barely keeping the feds away, and Dean’s spending half his time waiting for the other shoe to drop. The feds haven’t been to town since just after his dad died, and Dean doesn’t want them lurking around while he’s trying to make sure his club and family survive what’s coming.

“Got the accounts set up?” Dean asks Ash as he passes by.

“Yep, didn’t take a hot minute,” Ash says, picking up his beer. “Need anything else?”

“Yeah. Try and hunt down any information you can on these names.” Dean grabs a scrap of paper from behind the bar and jots down Josie and Luke’s names and street names. “Anything that you think could be relevant, do it.”

“Yes sir,” Ash says with a salute.

Dean taps him lightly on the back of the head and lets out a snort of laughter when Ash immediately fixes his damn mullet. He’s about to talk when he hears a commotion coming from outside. “What the—” Dean stomps outside and sees his mom, her face contorted in rage as she waves a bit of paper around in the air, Sam and Gabriel trying to calm her down. “What’s going on?” he asks, holding his hands up in an attempt to soothe her mood. “Mom, what’s happening?”

“This,” Mary says, shoving the paper at Dean’s chest. “This asshole thinks he can come to my house and threaten me.”

Dean catches the paper and realises there’s a set of photos shoved in an envelope with them. Flicking through them, he slowly feels rage starting to bubble in his gut as he realises what they are; photos of his mom—at the house, at the grocery store, on the street—obviously taken when she wasn’t aware. Pulling out the paper from the photos, Dean notes that it’s not signed, but there’s a small sketch of a devil at the bottom and— “Luke,” he says, voice low and angry. “Luke’s been stalking you. How long?”

Mary reaches over and points at one of the photos. “That was two weeks ago.”

“Lockdown,” Dean says, looking up at Sam. “We’re going into lockdown.”

“Dean—”

“What?” Dean cuts Sam off. “I’m not having anyone else get hurt. I’m going to the studio, you and Gabe and Bobby start preparing, I want everyone here before the sun goes down. Mom, when you leave, you take someone with you, I don’t care who, but you’re not going anywhere alone.”

Mary nods and kisses his cheek. “Go,” she says. “I’ll take Cas with me when I leave.”

Getting on his bike, Dean heads off to the studio, going as fast as he possibly can, keeping an eye out for anyone trying to follow him. It’s free and clear the whole way there, and before long he’s pulling up outside. Walking inside, Dean nods at the prospects and casts an eye over Lisa and Pamela on the set, an array of sex toys next to them, he heads towards Charlie where she’s sitting in her director’s chair.

"Hey,” he says, touching her shoulder. “We need to talk.”

Charlie motions to the camera guys to keep shooting, and they walk over to the office, Charlie closing the door behind them. “What’s going on?” Charlie asks, sitting down at the desk. “Didn’t think we’d be seeing you today.”

“We’re going into lockdown,” Dean says. “Luke’s threatened mom, which means everyone is at risk. You and the girls are coming to the clubhouse.”

“When?”

“Now. I want everyone in by sunset.”

“We’re in the middle of—”

“I don’t care, Charlie, I care about no one else getting hurt on my watch. Shut it down, close it up, and get your asses to the clubhouse.”

“Okay,” Charlie says, raising a hand. “We’ll be there. Dean—is this going to be bad? You’re kind of jittery, and that’s really freaking me out.”

Dean takes in a deep breath before exhaling. “It could be bad,” he says, painfully aware of the fact he needs to be a figurehead right now, that he can’t be seen to be weak by anyone outside of Cas. “That’s why I want everyone at the clubhouse, we’re stronger together.”

“Or a bigger target.”

“Not on my watch,” Dean says firmly. “I promise you’re gonna come out of this safe. I gotta go to the Roadhouse, you’re in charge of getting the girls there, don’t let Lisa get Ben, Mrs Tran is bringing the kids, okay?”

“Got it.”

Dean walks over and wraps an arm around her from behind, pressing his lips to her hair and letting her lean back against him. “I’m gonna take care of this,” he says quietly. “I swear.” Charlie’s hand is wrapped around Dean’s forearm, and she’s holding on tight like she used to when it was time for her to go back into the home. The day she got out and came to stay with the family was the happiest Dean had ever seen her, and there’s no fucking way he’s ever going to let her lose that. “We’re family,” he says, his other hand covering hers. “You know that.”

“Yeah,” Charlie says, loosening her grip on him. “I’ll get them there.”

“Good,” Dean says, letting go of her. “Let the prospects take care of you.”

“Dean—”

“Do it.”

“You know you’re not actually my brother, right?”

“Yes I am,” Dean says with a smile as he walks out. Shooting a text to Sam, he rides off to the Roadhouse. When he gets there, Ellen and Jo are already loading up their van with food, weapons, and ammo.

“I’m gonna assume Cas called you and that you’re not just heading out for some fun?”

“Don’t be a smartass,” Ellen says, closing the van doors up. “We’re heading over to help out. Think we need someone here?”

“Luke likes arson,” Dean says with a wince. “But I don’t think he’s gonna want to target this place if you’re not here.”

“I hope you’re right, kid. Don’t want to rebuild again.”

“Yeah,” Dean says, taking the bag Jo hands to him as she clambers into the front seat. “I know.” Handing the bag back over to Jo, he closes the door and pats the side of the van. “See you back there.”

*

By the time Dean makes it back to the clubhouse, the forecourt is full of vehicles and kids running around. He heads towards Cas and pulls him aside. “Any trouble?”

“It was quiet,” Cas says, looking around the forecourt, hand sliding into Dean’s with a slight squeeze. “Your mom’s cleaning out the rooms so the kids have somewhere to sleep. We’ve got cots for everyone else, and there’s the couches.”

“Food?”

“Ellen and Jo brought supplies from the bar, Sam and Chuck are on a run, should be back soon.”

“Weapons?”

“Fully stocked.”

“Okay,” Dean says, watching as Ben and Asher run between the cars with water pistols. “I guess we’re all set. Garth here?”

“Clubhouse, he says he’s fine.”

Dean snorts. “Sure, guy cracks his head open and he’s fine. Talk to Mrs Tran about Kevin?”

“He’s staying at school, but I called Victor and they’re gonna make sure he’s protected,” Cas says quickly before Dean can protest.

“Better than nothing,” Dean says eventually. “Can’t believe that kid wouldn’t come back.”

“Really?”

“Okay, I can, but I don’t have to like it. Everyone else is in, right?”

“Aside from Sam and Chuck, yeah. Charlie and Tessa are hooking up Charlie’s gaming equipment to the television in the bar.”

“Of course they are,” Dean says, catching sight of the van rolling in with Sam behind the wheel. “Ed,” he yells over at the prospect. “Lock it down.” Looking at Cas, Dean grabs a reassuring kiss from him. “Get everyone inside, gimme a moment to talk to mom.”

Dean finds Mary in one of the bedrooms, bed frame put against a wall and mattresses on the floor with pillows and blankets. “Hey mom,” he says, taking the other end of a sheet from her. “Everything set?”

“You boys need a damn cleaner,” she says as they tuck a sheet over one of the mattresses. “The things I found in these rooms.”

“We survive this, I’ll make sure the prospects brush up on their Suzy Homemaker skills.”

Mary smacks him on the shoulder and laughs, resting her hands on her hips. “You’re all set. This’ll be the kids room, if there’s not enough space, the one next door is set up for them as well. I left your room alone, you and Cas can sort that out, and the other rooms are free for whoever needs them. You gonna rotate?”

“Standard switch off, someone’s always gonna be on watch.”

“Good, good. Ellen and Ash are gonna get to barbecuing soon, and I got some of the girls and Garth on chopping duty.”

“Claire?”

“Behind the bar.”

“Mom.”

“What? She wanted to be useful.”

“You could’ve put her on chopping duty,” Dean mutters. “Go help Cas get everyone inside.”

“You’re doing good, baby,” Mary says, one hand cupping Dean’s face before she heads out of the room.

Dean takes a breath and runs a hand over his face, the responsibility weighing heavy on his shoulder. Walking out, Dean makes his way to the main room and quickly finds Cas, needing him by his side. “Hey,” Dean says, raising his voice to get everyone’s attention. “Okay, thank you all for coming, I know it’s not what you expected to be doing tonight. The club is being targeted, people who we care about are at risk, and if you’re in this room, that means you. I am not going to let any of you get hurt and the best way to keep you all safe is to keep you here. If you have security worries, then talk to Sam or Castiel, if you have another issue, speak to my mom. So, please, hang out, enjoy the food that Ellen and Ash are going to start cooking up, and hopefully this will be over soon.”

The room settles down, and Dean leans against the bar, watching as Ellen and Ash start hauling meat outside for the grill. Claire pats him on the shoulder and hands him a beer.

“Nice speech, old man.”

“Still with the old man thing,” Dean says, taking the bottle from her. “You okay here?”

“Yeah,” Claire says with a shrug. “I mean, you guys will keep me safe, right?”

“Of course we will,” Cas says, and when Dean looks at him, there’s a steely determination in his eyes.

“Okay then,” Claire says. “I’m gonna go and carry out the stuff Garth’s been chopping. Should he really be handling knives?”

“Probably not,” Dean says. “But it’s better than him handling guns with a head injury.”

*

It’s still dark when Dean wakes up; Cas is sprawled over his chest, both of them having taken the first shift, and when Dean glances at the bedside clock, he really wants to know why the fuck he’s awake a mere two hours after he got to bed. It’s quiet, mostly, Dean can hear the low chatter of Sam and Chuck outside as they keep watch, but there’s no other noise.

Staring up at the ceiling, Dean listens to Cas’ breathing, enjoying the security of knowing that the people he loves are all safe under one roof; Cas is a comforting weight on top of him, and Dean runs his fingers through the mess of hair on Cas’ head, smiling to himself when Cas makes a noise and rubs his cheek against Dean’s bare chest. The wings Cas has tattooed on his back and all down his arms are stark in the light seeping in through the window and Dean fixes his gaze on them, mentally tracing the lines as he tries to get his mind to settle.

He’s not stupid, knows that there’s going to be chaos, probably deaths, and he just really fucking hopes it’s gonna be whoever Luke has on his side, because Dean doesn’t know how he’s gonna cope with anyone in his family dying.

“Why y’awake?” Cas grumbles, his mouth moving against Dean’s chest.

“Sorry,” Dean says, his hand moving along Cas’ back, fingers sliding down his spine. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Your heart,” Cas says. “Sped up. You’re worried.”

“Don’t want to lose anyone.”

“Can’t tell you it won’t happen,” Cas says sleepily, lifting his head and resting his chin on Dean’s chest. “But if it does, I’ll kill them.”

Dean smiles and looks down at Cas. “I love you.”

“Go to sleep, Dean.” Cas presses his lips against the matching lock tattoo on Dean’s chest before getting himself resituated; exhaustion taking over, Dean soon follows Cas into sleep.

Dean’s woken up again by a banging on the door, and he scrambles to a seated position, Cas’ legs tangled with his. “What?” he calls out. “Come in, what’s happening?”

The door opens and Rufus comes in. “Kid, you gotta come to the yard.”

“What?” Dean rubs his eyes. “What’s happened?”

“Just come,” Rufus says, leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

Cas rolls onto his back, cracking an eye open, he looks over at Dean. “What’s going on?”

“I dunno,” Dean says, frowning at the closed door. “We should get out there.”

They get dressed quickly, Dean discomforted by the quiet outside. Glancing at the clock, he realises he’s only been asleep for a few hours again, it’s barely seven am, and he tugs his boots on. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” Cas says, pulling a hoodie on. “Let’s go.”

Making their way through the clubhouse, Dean tries not to wake anyone up. There’s people asleep on the couches, Ash crashed out on the bar snoring loud enough to wake up people in the next state, and it’s a short few steps to the door.

Dean’s not prepared for what he sees when he gets outside.

Benny’s laid out on a table, blood coating almost every inch of skin, staining his clothes, with a note pinned to his chest. His head is at an unnatural angle, and Dean knows in an instant that he’s dead. Eyes scanning the body, Dean notes the broken fingers, Benny’s left arm dangling like it had almost been twisted right off, and he quickly tries to suppress the urge to vomit.

“You should see the note,” Rufus says quietly.

Dean steadies himself, thankful that he doesn’t have to ask for Cas to walk with him, that he’s just there by his side, and takes the few steps to the bench table, each one feeling like he’s got lead in his boots. Snatching the paper off Benny’s chest, Dean scans it.

‘He didn’t give you up’ is all it reads, with the same goddamn devil signature at the bottom that was with the photos of his mom, and Dean crushes in in his hands. “Luke.”

“Yeah,” Sam says, rubbing a hand through his hair. “Someone dropped him outside the gates, by the time we got to him, they’d already driven off.”

“We need to get him moved before the kids wake up,” Cas says. “They can’t see this.”

Dean nods once, taking his eyes off Benny’s body to look at everyone else in the yard. “Call Frank, make sure he’ll open for us now. Call Benny’s guys, they deserve to be there.”

“Not many of them left,” Rufus says. “Shouldn’t be hard.”

“Yeah.” Dean feels Cas’ fingers brush against his and he breathes a little easier at the touch. “We’ll move Benny to the van. Sam, power wash, I want the blood gone.”

“What about Jody?” Sam asks, already moving towards the machine. “We gonna tell her?”

“No,” Dean says, slipping his shirt off. Cas does the same and, together, they lift Benny between them as Rufus backs the van up nearer the bench. Blood smearing over their skin, Dean and Cas manage to get Benny inside the van before closing the doors.

"I’ll call Frank,” Rufus says, getting out of the van. “Crazy fuck owes me a favour.”

“Thanks, Rufus,” Dean says, walking over to the outdoor hose and switching it on, turning it on himself, Benny’s blood washing off his skin in streaks. Cas joins in, and quickly, they clean off. Sam’s almost done clearing the blood from the bench table and the forecourt, and very soon it’s almost like Benny’s body was never there.

“What do you want to do?” Cas asks, standing there as Dean turns the hose on him.

“I want Luke dead,” Dean says, rinsing off the last of the blood from Cas’ skin. “I want to find him, and make him suffer. No one comes after my family like this.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Cas says, walking into the garage and grabbing a towel, roughly getting the water off before throwing it to Dean.

Catching it, Dean rubs it over him, drying quickly, before dropping it on the ground. The sun is barely up in the sky, and exhaustion is already setting in for Dean, he scrubs a hand over his face and sighs heavily. “Yeah. I guess.”

“Dean,” Cas says, walking over and touching Dean’s shoulder. “Whatever you want to do here, I’m behind you.”

Meeting Cas’ eyes, Dean shakes his head before leaning in, resting their foreheads together. “Gotta get him to Frank’s place and then—then we’ll have a meeting, try and work out what to do. You got my back?”

“Of course.”

*

Frank’s grumbling to himself when they arrive, but Dean tunes him out and directs his club to get Benny’s body inside. Benny’s VP is there, and Dean hands over Benny’s kutte to him; they stand side by side as Benny’s body burns. Dean doesn’t think he’s ever going to get the smell out of his nose.

Back at the clubhouse, Dean gathers the club outside by the boxing ring, a little way away from where the kids are playing. Sitting on the edge of the ring, Cas and Sam either side of him leaning against the ring. “You all know what happened today. Give me your thoughts.”

“Can’t let him get away with it,” Gabriel says, lighting a cigarette. “If we don’t strike back, then we look weak.”

“You know where he is?” Bobby asks, looking over at Gabriel. “Because I sure as hell don’t, and it’s goddamn hard to fight someone you can’t find.”

“Give it time,” Gabriel responds. “Turn over enough rocks, you find the scum you’re looking for.”

“We don’t have time,” Dean says. “The longer we leave this, the longer we gotta keep everyone here, the more risk we’ve got that we’re gonna lose someone.”

“We get that, Dean,” Sam says, straightening up. “But Bobby’s right, we can’t fight Luke if we can’t find him.”

Dean holds up a hand as Sarah approaches them. “Hold on.”

“Sorry to interrupt,” she says, offering a cautious smile. “But your mom sent me out here, she says there’s a phone call for you in the office.”

“She say who?”

“Abaddon.”

“The fuck is she calling for,” Dean says, getting off the boxing ring. “Thanks, Sarah, tell mom I’ll be right in.”

“She wants something,” Cas says as soon as Sarah’s walked away. “She wouldn’t call if she didn’t.”

“Yeah, but what?”

“You’re not gonna find out gossiping out here,” Rufus says. “Get your ass inside and talk to her.”

Dean huffs out a laugh, and nods once. “Okay,” Dean says. “Cas, with me.” They head towards the office where Mary’s waiting for them, staring at the phone like it’s going to bite her. Dean picks it up and presses the speaker button. “What do you want?” he asks as Mary leaves the room.

“Heard you got a package today, boys.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s not, you’re right,” Abaddon says. “Look, I have something you want.”

“I doubt that.”

“So, you don’t want Luke’s location?”

Dean exchanges a look with Cas before answering. “You’re going to give up Luke? Am I expected to believe that?”

“Believe what you want. I work for money, and I don’t like it when I don’t get paid.”

“Luke skipped out on your contract,” Dean says, the corners of his mouth turning up in a wry smile. “Ain’t that a bitch.”

“Listen up Winchester, if you want the location, it’s yours, but you have to guarantee that I don’t accidentally get gutted by one of your guys. Or Luke.”

“You plant a bomb in my clubhouse and want me to protect you?”

“What exactly do you think your chances are of finding him without me?”

“Hold on.” Dean presses the mute button without waiting for her response and sighs heavily, looking at Cas. “What do you think?”

Cas’ shoulders shift in a minute shrug. “We get the address, keep her here, let her go when we’ve got Luke. If something happens to her after that, we can’t be held accountable.”

Dean’s eyes narrow as he takes in the implications of what Cas is saying. “You sure we won’t be bringing more down on us if it falls that way?”

“She murdered children, Dean.”

“Yeah, okay.” Unmuting Abaddon, Dean sets his jaw. “Where are you?”

“Does that mean you’re taking my offer?”

“Don’t have much of a choice, do I? Where are you?”

Abaddon gives Dean the name of a motel in town and Dean agrees to send people to pick her up; ending the call, Dean looks over at Cas and rubs a hand over his face. “You think I’m doing the right thing here?”

“What other choice do we have?” Cas asks, reaching for Dean’s wrist, his fingers looping around and holding on tight. “We need to eliminate Luke and whoever’s working with him. You’re making the right choice here, Dean, please trust me on this.”

“I always do,” Dean says as their fingers tangle together. Leaning in, Dean lets himself get lost in the soft pressure of Cas’ mouth against his, pouring the stress from everything that’s happening into the kiss. “Okay,” he says when they part, lips brushing against Cas’ skin as he speaks. “Gotta go tell the others about the plan.”

*

Dean sends Cas and Sam to get Abaddon, and while they’re gone, he clears out a space in the garage to keep her. A chair, a pair of handcuffs, some rope, and a bucket are all left in the back room, and when he walks out, Sarah’s outside, leaning against the wall with a beer bottle in her hand.

“Hey,” Dean says, walking over and leaning next to her. “How you doing with this?”

“I’ve never been through something like this before,” Sarah says, a slight smile on her face. “It’s, well, it’s interesting.”

“Everyone treating you okay?”

“Yes, Dean,” Sarah says. “They’ve been great. Not exactly how I pictured meeting your mom, but—”

“Sorry about that,” Dean says with a laugh. “Trust me, I know that wasn’t easy.”

“I don’t know, panic kind of brings people together.” Sarah takes a swig of her beer, looking out over the forecourt. “Sam’s okay, right? Where you’ve sent him?”

“He’ll be fine,” Dean says. “Sam’s been doing this for a long time.”

“I know,” Sarah says, and Dean frowns when he hears the tone of her voice.

“You don’t want him in this life?”

“No, Dean, that’s not—” Sarah cuts herself off, a frustrated look crossing her face. “I understand this is him, that he and the club can’t be separated, and I get that, I do. I just, I worry, I guess.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Dean says. “I’d be thinkin’ Sammy’s dating the wrong girl if you weren’t worried about him.”

“So I have your approval?” Sarah asks, a teasing light in her eye.

Dean lets out a light laugh, his eyes catching movement by the gate. “You do, but you should go inside,” he says, as the van pulls in. “Your boyfriend and I have got business to attend to.”

Sarah nods and kisses Dean on the cheek before waving to Sam and heading back inside the clubhouse. Walking over to the van, Dean leans in the window. “She in there?”

“Yeah,” Sam says, thumb pointing to the back. “In there. Cas is with her. Why was my girlfriend kissing your cheek?”

“Because I’m the better looking Winchester, obviously.”

Sam rolls his eyes and gets out of the van, walking around and pulling the side door open. “Get out,” he says. “Go on.”

Dean watches as Abaddon gets out of the van. She’s not looking at anything in particular, her hair tied up in a loose bun, and Dean suppresses the urge to smack her around the face; he’s never wanted to hurt a woman before, but then again, no woman has ever tried to kill his family before now. Cas comes clambering out of the van, his mouth set in a tight line, and Dean wonders what the hell Abaddon said to him to make him look like that.

“So, where are my digs?” Abaddon says, winking at Dean.

Ignoring her, Dean turns to Cas. “Go okay?”

“I wanted to gag her.”

“I can understand that,” Dean says. “Sam, get her in the back room of the garage. Grab Chuck to help. You get the address?”

“Here,” Cas says, pulling a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket. “We need to have a meeting.”

“Yeah,” Dean says, looking at the address. “We do.”

The building is somewhere in the warehouse district; Dean doesn’t want to risk spooking Luke by doing a drive by, but they need to know the damn layout. Sam comes out of the garage and shakes his head. “She’s a piece of work,” he says. “What’s the plan?”

“Chuck staying in there?”

“Figured you wouldn’t want her left alone,” Sam says. “And she’ll underestimate Chuck, which works for us.”

They head inside the clubhouse when Charlie sticks her head out and tells them lunch is up; there’s slabs of sandwiches along the bar, and Dean grabs a couple for him and Cas, taking a seat by Ben and Lisa. Ben quickly pulls Cas into a card game, and Dean’s pretty sure it’s only the watchful eye of Lisa that’s stopping money being thrown down.

“How you doing?” he asks Lisa through bites of his sandwich.

“We’re okay,” Lisa says, picking at a bag of chips. “Really, Dean, I know why we’re here, and that’s—thank you. For keeping us safe.”

“C’mon, everyone here is family, of course you and Ben got a place here.” Dean looks up and spots Ash, waving him to come over, Dean gets up and pulls Ash into a corner. “Table when lunch is over, tell everyone, bring your laptop.”

“Yes, boss,” Ash says with a salute, moving on to talk to Bobby.

Sitting back down, Dean ignores the look his mom is shooting him from across the clubhouse, and picks up the other half of his sandwich. “Ben, you whipping Cas’ ass?”

“He’s more talented than he thinks,” Cas says, placing a card down. “He’ll be dangerous in a few years.”

Lisa rolls her eyes fondly. “Just what every mom wants for her kid, a future as a card shark.”

“There’s worse things,” Cas says, looking up at Lisa. “He could want to be a cop.”

*

Closing the thick wooden doors, Dean turns and heads to his seat at the top of the table; Sam shuts the blinds and takes his seat, the rest of the club, except Chuck, slowly quieting down. Dean bangs the gavel and looks around the room. “We have an address for Luke,” he says. “I think it’s reliable, despite the source. Ash, pull it up.” Pushing the paper to Ash, they wait until Ash gets it on screen.

“What’s the plan?” Rufus asks. “That’s a big ass building, we’re gonna need more than what we got.”

“Victor’s already said he’ll back us, and what’s left of the Vamps will be joining, they want their own revenge, but they understand our problems take priority.”

Gabriel leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers. “They’ll have men outside the perimeter, we’re gonna need to go in waves, take them out first, and quietly.”

“And after that we eliminate all of them,” Cas says firmly. “They crossed a line when they went after Mary, we need to make sure we don’t leave survivors.”

“What do we do with her in the garage?” Bobby asks, brow furrowed. “We just gonna let her go?”

“We made a deal,” Dean says, rubbing his fingers against his temple. “But as far as we’re concerned, that deal only runs for as long as we need her.”

“After that?”

“After that it’s free game.” Dean holds up a hand to hold off any protests. “I know we gave our word and if it gets out there’s a chance we’ll lose our reputation, but we can’t let her go. She got into our club, she’s killed kids because she got paid and has no remorse about it.” Looking around the table, Dean takes a breath. “If there’s any objections, we’ll hold a vote, but I’d prefer not to. We all know what needs to be done here. So,” he says, leaning forward. “Are there any objections?”

“We don’t kill women,” Bobby says, eyes locking on Dean. “You cross this line, kid—”

“She crossed the line,” Dean interrupts. “She killed kids, she brought a bomb into our clubhouse, a bomb that got you laid up, almost killed Garth. We haven’t killed women because women have always been innocents; Abaddon ain’t no innocent.”

Bobby shakes his head. “I’m not comfortable with it, but I’m not objecting.”

“Anyone else?” Dean asks, looking around the table, making eye contact with everyone. “Speak up now or else this is the plan.” No one else says a word and Dean nods. “Good. We’ll be hitting them tomorrow night, Victor and the Vamps will be here by midday. Check in with Cas in the morning for details. Until then, enjoy your time.” Smacking the gavel down, Dean dismisses everyone.

Everyone files out aside from Cas, Dean pushes his chair back and Cas gets up, sitting on the edge of the table in front of Dean’s seat. “Long day tomorrow,” Cas says, perching his foot against Dean’s chair. “Who do you want to go in first?”

“Gotta think they’ll have at least six guys outside given the size of the place. Are we gonna go one by one, or simultaneously?”

“One by one,” Cas says, tapping his fingers against his thigh. “Send some of Victor’s men in with Sam and Gabriel, maybe Chuck. Once we’ve got the guards down, we all go in.”

“Bobby and Garth have to stay here, they’re not healthy enough.”

“What about Rufus?”

Dean snorts. “You wanna try and tell him he can’t come on this?”

Tilting his head, Cas contemplates it. “No, not particularly.”

“Exactly.”

“They’ll stay here with Abaddon,” Cas says. “Your mom, as well.”

“You want to leave my mom with Abaddon?”

“She can handle herself.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Dean says, a small smirk on his face as he stands up, dislodging Cas’ foot from his chair. He runs his hands down Cas’ arms and interlocks their fingers. “She might kill Abaddon.”

“Save me the trouble,” Cas says, squeezing Dean’s hands. “You’re sure about this? I don’t want to have pushed you into this.”

“Of course you pushed me into this,” Dean says. “Not in a bad way, I needed—” Dean breaks off and presses a kiss to Cas’ forehead. “You’re my rock, Cas, sometimes I need you to be the one to push me to make the hard decisions. I don’t wanna put that on you, but—”

“We all have our part to play,” Cas interjects, leaning in and brushing their noses together. “I get it, Dean.”

Dean sighs heavily, Cas’ lips brushing over his, and he opens against the gentle pressure, sinking into the kiss Cas gives him. He needs this, knows he would’ve lost it a long time ago if it weren’t for Cas. Letting go of Cas’ hand, Dean cups the back of Cas’ head and deepens the kiss, seeking out the comfort and strength he always gets from Cas.

Noise breaks through from the clubhouse, and Dean reluctantly pulls back. “We’re going to make it through,” he says, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of Cas’ neck.

“Yes,” Cas says, staring at Dean like he’s willing Dean to believe his own words. “We are.”

*

Dean wakes up to find Cas sitting on the edge of the bed, his back curved, resting his elbows on his knees, his face in his hands. “Hey,” he says roughly, pulling himself up until he’s sitting up, looking at Cas from the side. “What’s going on?”

“Nightmare,” Cas says quietly, his fingers dragging along his skin as he drops his hands and turns to look at Dean. “I’m okay.”

“Like before?”

“But different,” Cas says. “Losing everyone in the club, being alone, like after—.”

Leaning in, Dean presses a kiss against Cas’ bare shoulder. “We’re going to win,” Dean says. “I promise. We’re not losing anyone else.”

“What time is it?”

Dean turns his head to glance at the bedside clock and sighs. “Not even past one yet. Tomorrow, you tell Sam, Gabriel, and Chuck what they’re doing, get them to tell Victor’s guys when they get here. Then we set off.”

“This is going to be bloody,” Cas says. “Are we bringing the prospects?”

“Not on this. Too important, if one of them can’t handle this life, I don’t want to find out on this run.”

“They’re doing well,” Cas says. “But I agree with you.”

Dean makes a noise, falling back against the bed. “They’ve got another six months on their year, so we’ll see how they go. If they don’t fuck up dramatically, then they’ll be voted in.”

“We’re wearing vests tomorrow,” Cas says suddenly.

“Yeah, Cas, of course we are,” Dean says, knocking his knee against Cas’ back. “We’re not going in to take on Luke without vests. C’mon, come here.”

Cas sighs and curls back up with Dean on the bed, one leg curled over Dean’s thigh. “What?”

“You need to sleep,” Dean says, running his fingers through Cas’ hair. “We both need to be at our best tomorrow. Go to sleep. I’m here.”

“Promise?” Cas asks, his voice as vulnerable as Dean has ever heard it.

“Promise.” 

*

There’s a rural area five minutes from the warehouse—an abandoned field that no one has found a use for yet—and they ride into there, getting off the bikes so they don’t alert Luke and his men to their approach.

The sun is almost down and they use the shadows to creep closer; falling back, Dean directs the first wave forward, nodding to Sam as he watches them go. They’re quiet, but if Dean listens closely, he can hear the soft fall of the guards as his men take them out, and before too long, Sam’s circled back to them.

“They’re done,” he says quietly. “You were right, six men, stationed at even intervals.”

“Sure that was all?”

“I’m sure, Dean. There’s a door we wedged open with, well, Chuck; that’s our way in.”

“Okay.” Dean looks over at Cas and exchanges a smirk with him before looking over at the rest of the men. “Weapons ready,” he says. “Take out anyone you find, but Luke is mine.”

There’s low murmurs of assent and they follow Sam towards the door Chuck is keeping open; the inside of the warehouse is exactly like the blueprints Ash dug up, and they quickly split up into the agreed formations. Dean takes a left, Cas backing him up and they head towards the stairs leading to the next floor of the building. Raising a questioning eyebrow at Cas, Dean waits for the nod and he heads up the stairs, gun leading the way; Cas is a few steps behind him, walking backwards up the stairs to keep an eye out for any of Luke’s guys trying to ambush them.

Dean can hear music coming from one room when they reach the top of the stairs, it’s a low and steady beat, and he goes towards it, Cas following close behind him. Peering in through the crack between the door and the wall, Dean clocks three men; one passed out in a chair—Dean’s seen enough junkies asleep that he can tell it’s dope sleep—and two playing cards, a ratty cd player on the floor next to them. Their guns are on the table they’re placing the cards down on, and Dean looks back at Cas, tilting his head towards the door; it’s only a matter of time before these guys hear a commotion from downstairs, so there’s no point in waiting.

Dean kicks the door open, firing off a shot at the first guy to jump up, it clips his shoulder and he falls backwards, head bouncing off the floor; the other guy makes a move for his gun, but Cas is quicker, driving a knife through the back of the man’s hand with such a force it pins him to the table.

“Junkie still sleeping?” Dean asks, focused on the one on the ground.

“Like Bobby after he’s been at the Johnnie Walker,” Cas says, his gun fixed on the other guy’s skull.

“See if this wakes him up.” With that, Dean fires a couple shots into the guy’s chest as he tries to crawl away.

“No,” Cas says, glancing over at the guy passed out on the bean bag. “Still sleeping.”

“Huh.” Dean turns and faces the guy Cas has pinned to the table with his knife. “Hey, hey, you, stop whining. He could do worse to you, trust me.” Grabbing the man’s face, Dean forces him to look up. “That’s better. What room is Luke in?”

“Fuck you,” the guy spits out.

“That’s not very nice,” Cas says, reaching down and moving the knife, wiggling it until the guy screeches. “Answer him.”

“One floor up. Door next to the staircase, press a panel by the window and he’ll be in there.”

“That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” Cas tilts his head, considering the man, before he pulls another knife out and presses it against the man’s throat. “Not enough to save you, though.” The knife slices through the man’s throat, blood spilling down his shirt, and there’s a dangerous glint in Cas’ eyes that Dean hasn’t seen in a long while.

“You know, you could’ve just shot him,” Dean says as Cas wipes his knives off on the still gurgling man’s shirt.

“I would have if he’d been nicer,” Cas says. “What are we going to do with him?” Cas nods towards the junkie who still hasn’t woken up. “Are we sure he isn’t dead?”

Dean walks over, his gun drawn, and kneels down, pressing two fingers against the man’s neck, searching for a pulse. “Barely alive.”

“He won’t be a problem if he wakes up,” Cas says. “We should get to Luke.”

Dean nods and they head out of the room, spotting Sam and Gabriel coming up the stairs. “Stay here,” Dean says. “Stop anyone from coming up, stop anyone from getting out.”

“You going after Luke?” Sam asks, checking his clip.

“He’s upstairs,” Dean says quietly. “Everyone downstairs taken care of?”

“It’s done.”

"Good.” Dean looks towards the stairs and turns back to Cas. “Let’s go.”

They creep up the stairs carefully, Dean’s sure Luke must know by now that they’re there, that they’re coming for him, but he hasn’t made a move, and Dean’s not sure what that means. It’s not unsurprising that Luke’s been willing to sacrifice his men, they’re nothing but fodder to him, they’re not family the way that the club is to Dean, and Dean can’t wrap his head around that way of thinking.

The door the guy told them about is open, and Dean heads inside, quickly determining that there’s no one around. Walking towards the window with Cas keeping guard, Dean presses his hand against the panelling, trying to find the right one. It’s quiet, both of them waiting to a hear a click, and when it comes Dean steps back, looking around the room for the secret door. Cas spots it first and nods towards it, they exchange a look and Dean’s a little suspicious as to why Luke hasn’t come out fighting. They were at a disadvantage, not knowing where the door was, and smart strategy would’ve been to have come at them as soon as the door opened.

Cas goes inside first, his steps cautious as he goes, and Dean follows closely behind, taking over Cas’ blindspot. The room isn’t that big, and Cas comes to a halt almost immediately, stepping to the side to give Dean space. Luke’s sitting in a chair in the middle of the room like a fucking Bond villain, and Dean wants to roll his eyes with the utter cliche of it all, all he’s missing is the cat.

“You found me,” Luke says in a sing-song voice and before Dean can say anything in return, Cas has marched over and punched Luke in the jaw. Luke falls off his chair, his hand stopping his face from smacking into the floor, and Dean smirks at the sight.

“We did,” Dean says, crouching down to look at Luke. “Your men aren’t so loyal.”

“That’s what I get for hiring junkies,” Luke says, spitting blood on the floor. “More interested in product than the plan.”

“What was the plan?” Dean asks as Luke rolls on his back, trying to get back to his feet. “Take out my club, take out my mom, take out me?”

“It was more elegant than that.”

“Really? Because from where I’m standing, you lost. Whatever you were trying to do, you lost.”

“So many bodies,” Luke says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing blood across his face. “Your Sheriff trying to keep things quiet. How long do you think that will last before people notice? FBI, ATF, you’re already on their radar, your club won’t last much longer.”

Dean stands up, shaking his head. Gesturing at Cas, he takes a few steps back, watching dispassionately as Cas hauls Luke up and throws him back in the chair. “That was your goal? Get the feds to take us out?”

“Clean you out and this town would be for the taking. You may get out of jail, but you’d be humiliated, your reputation destroyed, there’d be nothing for you.” Luke shrugs, there’s a small grin on his face that Dean wants to wipe off permanently. “It’ll still happen. You’ll implode. You run on heart, not money. A heart fails.”

“Not mine,” Dean says, his jaw stubbornly set. “This club? My heart? That’s strength. It’s why we’re here and you’re sitting there at my mercy.”

“And will you show mercy?”

Dean smirks, holstering his gun. “What do you think?”

With that, Cas slashes at Luke’s skin, his knife making shallow cuts, not enough to kill but more than enough to hurt. Blood is running down Luke’s skin, and Cas moves to his face, slicing down the side of Luke’s cheek. “You shouldn’t have threatened Mary,” Cas says as he drags the blade along Luke’s neck, a thin line of blood running from the cut. “If you hadn’t, maybe we’d make this quick.”

Reaching for Luke’s left hand, Dean methodically snaps Luke’s fingers back one by one before dropping that hand and grabbing the other one. Luke struggles, trying to get loose, but Cas has clamped a hand down on his shoulder, his other hand holding the knife to his throat, and there’s nowhere for him to go. He screams as Dean breaks the fingers on his right hand, and Dean hopes everyone in the house is hearing it.

“Fuck you,” Luke spits out when Dean steps back and Cas instantly moves the blade, slicing Luke’s ear off. Blood starts pouring down Luke’s neck and he stomps his foot against the floor before letting out a laugh that has Dean seeing red, pulling his gun out from his holster and pressing it against Luke’s forehead.

“Cas, you done?”

“I could carry on,” Cas says, standing over to the side and turning his knife over in his hand. “But if you want to end this, we can end it.”

Cas has barely got the words out before Dean’s fired his weapon. The silence that follows is deafening and Dean steps back from Luke’s body, still gripping his gun tightly in his hand; Cas’ hand covers his, and slowly Dean loosens his grip, letting Cas take the gun from him and holster it. “It’s okay,” he says, meeting Cas’ eyes. “I’m okay.”

“I know you are,” Cas says.

“Dean? Cas?” Sam’s voice echoes up the stairs. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Dean yells back, his voice steady. “Luke’s dead, we’re coming down.”

Cas is looking down at Luke. “What are we going to do with this?”

“He liked to burn shit down,” Dean says. “We’ll do the same to him.”

Pulling his phone out of his pocket, Dean jabs at the screen until the phone starts ringing, his mom picking up almost immediately. “It’s over,” Dean says. “Send everyone home.”

“You okay?”

“Everyone’s good. We’re cleaning up and then we’re going home.”

“Family dinner tomorrow—”

“Ma—”

“This is non-negotiable, Dean. At your house, don’t fight me on this.”

Dean huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, okay mom.” She hangs up and Dean pockets the phone, shaking his head and reaching for Cas’ hand, squeezing tightly. “We’ve got a crime scene to clear up.”

The fire burns as they ride away, and Dean feels a weight off his shoulders, the wind hitting his face as he picks up speed. They take a lengthy route back to the house, circling around, watching everyone who had been on lockdown make their way home; Lisa and Ben wave from their porch, Charlie flips them off with a grin, and Mrs Tran shoots them a glare when Ash comes a little too close to her garden. Everyone peels off as they ride, some heading back to the clubhouse, others heading to a bar, and before long it’s just Dean and Cas cruising along to their house.

It feels like blood is encrusted all over his skin, and all Dean wants is to have a scalding hot shower, preferably with Cas. Wearily, they head towards the bathroom, dropping their clothes on the tiled floor; Dean sits on the bathroom mat, tugging his boots off as Cas starts the water.

“Come on,” Cas says, reaching down and pulling Dean up with one hand. “Get in.”

Stepping under the water, Dean turns and watches Cas strip off the last of his clothing before he gets in the shower. “Hi,” Dean says as Cas pulls the shower door closed.

Cas grabs the shower gel and squeezes some out, scrubbing the blood from his hands. Dean looks down, watching the dark red swirls go down the drain, before following Cas’ example and doing the same. The blood keeps running off them, and Dean wonders if it’s ever going to come off, but eventually, like always, it does and the water runs clear. Letting out a breath, Dean touches Cas’ chin and presses their mouths together, allowing himself to enjoy the easy way they fit together.

Silently, they get out of the shower and towel off, walking through to the bedroom. Pulling back the blankets, Dean crawls in, laying on his back and holding his arm up until Cas gets in the bed and curls up next to Dean, resting his head on Dean’s chest.

“It’s over,” Dean says quietly, not wanting to break the peace.

“We’re still going to have some mess to clean up,” Cas says, mouth brushing against Dean’s skin.

“Don’t we always?” Dean smiles, his fingers running along Cas’ arms. “We’ll make it through,” he says. “Together.”


End file.
